


Chemical Reaction

by HiddenTreasures (lastbluetardis)



Series: Catalysis [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexuality Spectrum, Demisexuality, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Past Abuse, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 146,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastbluetardis/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Catalysis [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552384
Comments: 944
Kudos: 331





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! No, it’s not an April Fool’s joke, I’m actually posting the sequel to Chemical Potential! I figure we could all do with a dose of fluff during quarantine, or to lift your spirits if you still have to go to work.
> 
> This story takes place between Chapter 10 and the epilogue of Chemical Potential: James and Rose have just agreed to start dating and are snogging in the middle of the dining hall. This story will follow the evolution of their romantic relationship... therefore the rating will eventually go up ;)

In one of the far recesses of her mind, Rose realized that she and James weren’t alone. Granted, there were only about half a dozen people in the dining hall—what with it being the last day of final exams before winter break—but still. There were half a dozen people who were witnessing the rather heated snog they were engaged in.

His hands roamed restlessly across her body, though they always remained in a perfectly appropriate location. They wandered from her hair to her cheek to the nape of her neck to the small of her back.

Jimmy had had no qualms about copping a feel of her bum and breasts in public, despite her asking him not to. She was adding this to the ever-growing list of how much better James was than her ex-boyfriend.

Reluctantly, Rose began to ease them out of the kiss. James recognized the gesture, and he popped his lips away from hers. He rested his forehead against hers as he panted softly for breath, then he planted a long kiss to her brow before taking a step back.

“What now?”

The rasp in his voice sent liquid heat pooling in her belly. She tightened her core slightly in hopes of alleviating the throbbing ache between her legs.

“What’d’you mean?” she asked, raking a hand through her surely disheveled hair.

“Well… did you want to stay in the dining hall all day?” he asked. “Do you have plans, or do you want to hang out for a bit? Relax together, now that exams are over and we’ve got an entire month before the new semester begins?”

“I need to go pick up my art project,” Rose said. “I told my professor I’d get it this morning. But after that, I think I can pencil in some time for you.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, but grinned goofily at her.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to her winter coat.

She nodded, and as she slipped into her coat, he began stacking their empty breakfast plates onto the tray. He then shrugged into his own jacket and picked up the tray of dishes. After placing them at the dish drop-off window, he threaded his fingers through hers and guided her outside.

The sun was bright and the sky was clear, which only bolstered Rose’s good mood. Their clasped hands swung lightly between them as they made their way across campus and to the art studios. Rose became a bit nervous as they approached her professor’s office.

She knocked on the open door. “Hi Dr. Rivas. I’m here to collect…”

“Ah, Rose. Excellent,” the brusque woman interrupted. “Yes, I’ve got your portfolio here. What an excellent job you’ve done this semester. Excellent, excellent, excellent. Will I be seeing you in any of my classes in the spring?”

Rose grimaced. “Sorry. Perhaps next year.”

“I hope so. A fine artist you’ll make. Enjoy your break. Enjoy…” Dr. Rivas finally seemed to realize Rose wasn’t alone; she lifted her brows at James. Rose’s cheeks burned as the professor said, “Aha! So here is the muse!”

James furrowed his brows at Rose, but she pretended not to notice.

“Thanks,” Rose mumbled, taking the large black portfolio case. She slung the strap over her shoulder. “Have a nice holiday.”

“You too. You too.”

Rose nearly shoved James out the door and back down the corridor.

“The muse?” James asked. A broad smile slowly lit up his face. “Rose Tyler, did you _paint me_?”

“Might’ve done,” she muttered, glaring down at the floor. The project had been about transitions; she painted the transition of them, from total strangers to friends to a girl in love with her best mate.

James bumped his elbow against hers as they strolled down the corridor. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry. I’m flattered. Genuinely flattered that someone would want to paint this ol’ mug.” He gestured vaguely to his face.

“Who wouldn’t want to paint that? You’re beautiful.” He snorted, and she frowned. “Seriously. You’re one of the handsomest blokes I’ve met.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t say anything more, but he looped his arm through hers and led her outside.

Though the car park— _parking lot_ , Rose corrected—only had a handful of vehicles, James’s car was in the very last row.

“I try to encourage myself to walk more,” he explained sheepishly.

“You’re so fit, though.”

“Thanks, and I intend to stay this way as long as I can,” he said. “I don’t go to the gym though, and I only occasionally take walks for fun. Forcing myself to walk long distances to and from my car helps a bit.”

They reached his vehicle and he unclasped their hands to dart forward, opening the passenger door for her.

“I’ll put your bag in the back,” he said, holding out his hand for it.

She unslung the portfolio from her shoulder and slid into the car. After carefully setting the portfolio on the back seat, James hopped into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and made his way to Rose’s flat.

The drive took less time than usual, since the town was cleared of most student traffic. However, the city parking authority had provided free parking on the weekends as a holiday gift, which meant many of the meters were taken. It took a few extra minutes to circle the surrounding blocks, but James eventually found a parking spot up the street from Rose’s building.

He carried her portfolio for her as she guided him into her building and up the narrow staircase to her fifth-floor flat. When they made it to door 504, Rose fished her keys out of her coat pocket and fumbled with the door. She would have to call maintenance soon; the door handle kept sticking and it sometimes took a minute for her to get her key into the lock.

“Can I see what you painted?” James blurted as she jiggled the handle, trying to coax the key to turn. “Obviously you don’t have to share them. But I would very much like to see more of your art. I’ve seen your photographs and they’re stunning. I would love to see your paintings. Only if you want to, though.”

“Sure,” Rose said, shouldering open the door victoriously. “Keep in mind, painting isn’t really my specialty though. I prefer taking photos.”

“Your professor seemed impressed,” James hedged.

Rose allowed herself a small, proud smile before she hefted her portfolio bag off his shoulder. Instead of unzipping it, she glanced at him. “It’s a better effect if they’re all in order. D’you mind closing your eyes for a minute so I can get everything arranged?”

He nodded. “Actually, can I use your loo? Then I’ll stay in there ‘til you tell me to come out.”

Rose pointed down the short hallway. “S’the door on the left.”

He gave her a two-fingered salute and shuffled down the hall. When the door clicked shut, she opened her portfolio and began rummaging through it, organizing all of the portraits and scenes detailing her and James’s evolving relationship over the course of the semester.

It didn’t take her as long as she’d thought, since everything was more or less in order already; she was finished at the same time the toilet flushed and the sink faucet turned on.

“You can come out now,” she called down the hall when the sink shut off.

James appeared a few seconds later, wiping his palms against the rear of his jeans. His eyes zeroed in on the stack of paintings she held. He folded himself onto the floor beside her, excitement radiating off of him. Her heart squeezed; nobody had ever been so genuinely eager to see her art before. Her mum had thought it good but not a “marketable skill”; Jimmy had thought it was a “nice hobby”.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He giggled low in his throat and angled his head to try to clumsily return the kiss.

Rose steeled herself and kept her focus trained on the paintings in her arms. “Right. Here goes.”

She set down the first painting in the series. It was a dark painting of their chemistry lecture hall. The entire room was veiled in shadows, with silhouetted classmates scattered around the room. But in the center of the painting was James. Well, the back of his head. For the first month or so of the semester, he had sat in the row in front of her, treating her to a glorious view of his hair, the nape of his neck, and the subtle flex of his back and shoulders as he took notes and fidgeted during class.

This painting had been one of the trickiest to do. She had tried to make it impersonal, as though she wasn’t aware of the manic energy bubbling just below the surface, as though she wasn’t aware of how his hair shone red and gold when it caught the light a certain way, as though she wasn’t aware of him at all.

“Oh, beautiful,” James breathed, studying the painting.

Rose handed him the next one. This one was also dark; however, the center of the painting was bright, highlighting the figure leaning against a wall. She had painted James as she had seen him outside the loo on the day she had received back her first failed chemistry exam. The background was shadowed but James was thrown into stark relief by the glaring fluorescent lights. He wasn’t looking at her, but rather at his shoes, with his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets.

“I’d been crying my eyes out in the loo just moments before,” Rose said, “and then there you were, and you made me feel better without doing anything at all. I never thanked you for that. So thank you. You made a shitty day a little less shit.”

“That should be on my gravestone,” James said. “Here lies James Smith… he made peoples’ shitty days a little less shit.”

Rose shoved her shoulder into his, but laughed. “Git.”

She then handed him the next painting. This one finally did not have a dark background. Instead, it showed James sitting in front of a huge stack of pancakes, backlit by the wall of windows in the dining hall. He was staring at his food, but his mouth was open in conversation and his hands were gesticulating wildly.

“Not my most flattering angle,” James said with a wince. “Do I really look that mad when I speak?”

“Only when you get excited,” Rose said. “Which is a lot.” After a beat, she added, “I love that you get so enthusiastic about what you’re talking about.”

He made a noncommittal humming noise. 

“I couldn’t very well leave our first date out of this series,” Rose teased.

He cracked a smile and glanced back at the painting before admitting, “There were so many times I’d wished we were on a proper date.”

“Me too. Especially when we went to Philadelphia together.”

Rose handed him the next portrait, which was a series of renderings of all of the selfies they’d taken together during the trip to Philly. She had marveled once that their selfies had gotten warmer and more comfortable as the day went on, and she had tried to emulate that in her paintings. She tried to show herself and James going from standing somewhat awkwardly side-by-side, to eventually slinging their arms around each other’s waists and beaming at the camera.

“God, I feel like I’m falling in love with you all over again,” James said, sticking his face so close to the canvas that his nose nearly touched it. “Rose, these are brilliant.”

She smiled and handed him the next painting, which was her second favorite in the series. She’d painted James during election night. While there had been many memories of her and James from that night, she had elected to paint James with his cats instead. She’d had to stretch her imagination slightly with this portrait, since she’d never quite seen him and his cats interacting like this, but she’d painted James reclining on his couch with Merry in his lap and Pippin standing on his chest. Merry was sleeping, but Pippin had his little nose and forehead pressed to James’s. James’s eyes were closed but he was smiling softly.

“You even painted Gollum!” James crowed, delighted.

Indeed, in the background, she’d painted the vague shape of a cat tree, with a scrawny Siamese cat lurking within one of the boxes. His face exuded disgust as he watched James from afar.

“How on earth did you get his eyes to glow like that?” James asked, tilting the portrait towards the light.

“Magic,” Rose said, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes and set the painting to the side. “You’re making me look so soft.”

“You are soft,” Rose said simply. “And that’s not a bad thing. You are kind and thoughtful and smart, and you have so much love in your heart. Honestly, watching you with Merry and Pippin made me fall in love with you on the spot. Like how guys get a hundred percent more attractive when they’re playing with a baby? Same thing. Could’ve shagged you rotten against your kitchen table.”

James squeaked, his ears and cheeks turning bright red. “I’ll, er, I’ll have to thank them.” He coughed. “You know… I wouldn’t’ve minded. If you’d wanted to… if you had… against my table.”

“Knowing now that you’ve never had sex, _I_ would have minded.” James deflated a bit, and Rose winced as she realized how her words came out. “Not like you’re thinking. It’s just… you deserve a better first time than a quickie shag against a table.”

“I don’t mind how or where, s’long as it’s with you,” James mumbled, looking a tad embarrassed.

Rose wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her cheek at his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? When Jimmy and I first… y’know… it was awful. We’d been dating for a couple months and had fooled around a bit, but hadn’t yet done the main event. I was sixteen and still in school at that point, and still living with my mum, who didn’t approve of him at all. So we always had to sneak around. My first time was in the back seat of his mate’s car. We’d had to be quick about it, and… well, let’s just say I wished there had been a bit more space to move about and readjust and whatnot. And we’d rushed into it before I was, er, _ready_ … 

“My point is, sex anywhere other than a bed gets a bit tricky. And you have to focus on your surroundings a bit more. I want to enjoy my first time with you, James, and vice versa. I want it to be about me and you, so I would really like to stick to a bed for the first time. After that, we can get adventurous.”

He giggled and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I would love to get adventurous with you, Rose Tyler. Can I see the rest of the paintings now?”

“There’s only a couple more,” Rose said.

She handed him the penultimate painting, and her favorite of the series. She’d painted James asleep on the couch, blankets pulled up to his chin. It was from when she had stayed with him all night on the anniversary of his parents’ death. In sleep, the exhaustion and sorrow of the day had melted away, leaving behind an ordinary twenty-two-year-old boy.

“Did you photograph me sleeping?” he asked, his voice choked.

Rose furrowed her brows. “No.”

He blinked at her. “You did all of this from memory?”

“Mhm.”

“Blimey.” He exhaled, long and low. “Rose, you… you’re…”

The words seemed to get stuck in his mouth. Instead of trying to spit them out, he set the painting on the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. She returned the embrace, glad that James was so positive about being used as an art subject.

“One more,” she murmured into his neck.

“Hmm?”

“One more painting,” she clarified.

Rose pulled back from their embrace and nudged the last painting into his hands. James stood in a kitchen in front of a dishwasher, his face lit up in a small but joyful grin. His happiness illuminated him from the inside out, casting a halo of brightness around his body.

“I’m never this happy to be doing dishes,” James drawled.

Rose flicked his arm. “Twat. This is from Thanksgiving. When you tried to ask me out on a date.”

“Ah, yes. The date you turned me down flat for.”

“Shut up. You know why I said no. And I didn’t even _say_ no. I told you to ask me after exams.”

“And here we are,” he said, a tad smugly. His expression then softened. “These are all beautiful, Rose. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

Her cheeks heated deliciously, and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then nestled his cheek in her hair.

“What are your plans for winter break?” he asked quietly. “Are you… are you off to London for the month?”

“No, I’m staying ‘round here. Why?”

“You don’t want to see your mum?”

“My mum and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on many things,” Rose said. “Not only is a plane ticket more expensive than I can afford, but my mum and I could use the time apart. We make do with texting and video chats every now and then.”

James nodded. “Have you, er, told your mum about me?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose said, already grimacing at how that conversation would go.

_“So, Mum, I’ve got a new boyfriend.”_

_“Oh, yeah? Finally putting yourself out there again?”_

_“Yeah, he’s great.”_

_“You thought Jimmy Stone was great, too.”_

_“Well, this time I know I’m right.”_

_“Hmph. Well, just be careful. I’m not there to bail you out.”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked, wounded.

Rose cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that. My mum has a way of disapproving of everything in my life. I’m so happy right now, James. This relationship… being with you… it’s new and shiny and exciting, and I’m not ready for my mum to question me about it, y’know?”

“Would your mum really question you about it?” James asked curiously.

Rose snorted. “One day, when you meet my mum, you’ll understand. I know my mum loves me deeply, but sometimes she goes about showing it a little backwards. And she can be a tad judgmental. But enough of her. Have you told your Aunt Sarah about us?”

His cheeks pinkened delightfully as he confessed, “I, well, I told her I liked someone at school. Well, more than _liked_.”

“You _loooove_ me,” Rose sang, a stupid grin splitting her face.

“Oh, shut up. You love me too,” he said, knocking his shoulder against hers.

“I guess so,” she said nonchalantly, but she leaned up and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth to make sure he understood she was teasing. She then spun away from him to painstakingly put her paintings back into her portfolio. “So, what’d’you want to do today?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea,” James said, rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. “If you’re agreeable. It’s just… it’s December. And you’ve hardly got any Christmas decorations. There are some great thrift stores nearby that have some neat decorations for a reasonable price. Wanna do some shopping?”

Rose glanced around her small flat. She had some fairy lights strung across the walls and ceiling, but apart from that, she had nothing. What with final exams, she’d hardly paid attention to the impending holidays, but now she was eager to get into the festive spirit. There were still eight more days until Christmas, plenty of time to decorate.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Rose said.

James perked up, as though he’d expected her to decline. He grinned and jumped to his feet. “Brilliant!”

His excitement was infectious. She laughed as he hauled her to her feet and held out her coat. When they were wrapped up against the December chill, James guided her out to his car.

They spent the entire afternoon bouncing from shop to shop, collecting a variety of decorations and ornaments. Rose had to reign James in when he dumped everything she cooed over into the cart he was pushing.

“Let’s take a look at the whole shop first, then we can come back for the ones I like best,” Rose said. “I don’t want to spend too much money.”

“Oh, it’s all right,” he said, “I can chip in.”

Rose took in a deep breath and counted to five. “James. Remember our discussion in Philly over the cheesesteak? You can’t offer to buy everything just because you have the money. Even though we’re dating now, that still doesn’t mean you can swan in and buy things for me.”

“But…” James deflated slightly. “I’m really not allowed to buy you things? Aren’t boyfriends supposed to dote on their girlfriends?”

“There are other ways to dote,” Rose said. “Don’t feel like you have to spend money on me. ‘Cos…” She scuffed her toe into the tile floor. “I won’t be able to spend a lot of money on you. And it makes me feel bad.”

“You don’t have to spend money on me,” James insisted.

“And you don’t have to spend money on me,” Rose said.

James ground his teeth, his jaw working from side to side as he regarded her. “This is going to be very hard for me. I… I see things that remind me of my friends, and I buy it for them. I don’t think twice about it. I love doting on the people I love. I love buying things for them and taking them places and… Can’t you compromise a little bit with me on this? Let me buy you _something_ today? I’ll try to not be obnoxious about it, but every now and then, I might have a little something for you. And I won’t mean for it to upset you or make you feel guilty.”

Rose chewed on the inside of her cheek and debated for a minute on whether she should explain. Well, she knew she ought to explain, but whether she wanted to share this nugget of information with James. In the end, her desire for him to know every piece of her overrode any other reservations she had.

“Jimmy would get me little gifts sometimes,” Rose said softly. “Little ‘just because’ gifts. Only he kept track of them, and would expect something in return. Not a gift, but other things. Like if he wanted to have sex or something when I wasn’t in the mood, he’d bring up whatever trinket he’d last given me. Or if there was something we were shopping for and I thought something he wanted was too expensive, he’d remind me that he’d spent X amount of money on me. They stopped becoming ‘just because’ gifts but instead a way for him to guilt me into doing what he wanted.

“It’s not that I think you’re doing the same thing. But he sort of left a bad taste in my mouth regarding gift-giving. And I hate him for that, for ruining something that should have been sweet and lovely, like what I think you’re trying to do. And I’m so sorry about that.”

James’s face was a mixture of devastation and fury. He set the little snow globe he’d been holding back on the shelf and stepped up to her, arms open. She tucked her face into his chest, breathing in the scent of him and relishing the feel of his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, mortified at herself. It had been over three years since she split with Jimmy; she was pathetic for still letting him control parts of her life.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmured, swaying them slowly from side to side in the middle of the aisle. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry he was such a wanker and that he did those things to you.”

“It’s frustrating,” she grumbled, “to randomly get these little reminders of him. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be wary of people getting me gifts. But the moment someone hands something to me for free, I start thinking of all the ways I can repay them. I hate it.”

“We can work on that together, if you want,” he said tentatively. “I mean… I don’t presume to think you need my help. Or to think you want me to help you with this. Or that you need to work on anything. I’m gonna stop talking now. Thank you for sharing that with me, Rose. Thank you for trusting me to tell me about him.”

“I would love to work on my aversion to gifts with you,” she said, a teasing edge creeping into her voice. “Tell you what. You can buy me one thing. _One_ thing. And nothing over ten quid… er, ten dollars.”

“Twenty,” he negotiated.

Rose rolled her eyes and pinched his waist, though he probably didn’t feel it through his coat. “Fifteen.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Fifteen.” He paused. “What if I find two things for you that together equals fifteen dollars?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” she replied, but she pulled back to wink at him. She then rocked up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thanks for listening. And for understanding.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon browsing through shops and collecting a variety of decorations and ornaments. True to his word, James bought her one thing: a small artificial Christmas tree that he managed to negotiate down to exactly fifteen dollars.

Rose had gone slightly over her hastily-made mental budget, but she mollified herself with the fact that these decorations would last her for many future Christmases.

It was dark by the time they made it back to Rose’s flat, laden down with boxes and bags. They began sifting through them immediately, working together to deck her halls with holiday cheer.

From snowmen figurines to ceramic trees to gingerbread houses, they scattered all of the decorations across every single flat surface. James took charge of hanging things, carefully hammering nails into the walls while Rose assembled her artificial tree.

By the time they were done, Rose was thoroughly pleased with how everything had turned out.

“Looks great,” James enthused, collapsing into an exhausted heap on her small sofa.

Rose allowed herself to drink in his lanky frame as his attention hopped around her flat, admiring their work. How were his legs that long? His jumper had ridden up and exposed a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. She ached to touch it, to see if his skin was as soft as it appeared.

She quickly averted her eyes as James lifted his gaze to her.

“Can I take you to dinner?” he asked, fiddling with his sleeve. “There’s a good pizza place a block or two down the street. We can walk.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’m starved.”

They gathered up their coats and once more departed into the chilly December evening.

The restaurant was fairly empty, thanks to the student population of the town having left for winter break, and so they were seated immediately at one of the booths along the front wall of windows. Rose admired the glittering decorations that hung from the lampposts up and down the street outside. This was one of her favorite times of year, when everything looked more lovely than usual and people were kinder and happier.

They were both exhausted from the events of the day—had it only been that morning that she had taken her Shakespeare exam?—and therefore didn’t speak very much. But the silence wasn’t stifling; it was comfortable and cozy. If they’d been on the couch in one of their homes, Rose knew she probably would have curled up beside him and fallen asleep.

“Ready to head out?” James asked as he grabbed the bill before Rose could even reach for it. He pinned her with a stare that made her swallow her objections.

She nodded, and together they headed up to the front counter so James could pay, then they made their way back to Rose’s flat. Warm and full from the food and beer, Rose wrapped her arm around James’s and leaned into his side as they walked.

She wished they’d chosen a restaurant farther away when her building came into view a mere minute later; she wasn’t quite ready for the day to end.

“Do you… do you want to come up?” Rose asked, suddenly shy.

James sighed. “I ought to go.” Before she could be too disappointed, he said, “Believe me, I would love to. But it’s nearly eight, and the cats have gotten used to being fed at around six. Pippin is probably a bag of bones, certain that I’m never coming home and he’ll starve to death. And I wouldn’t put it past Gollum to eat one of his brothers.”

Rose giggled and relinquished his arm.

“I had a really great time today,” he said, facing her.

“Me too. Thank you for dinner. And thanks for going shopping with me. No one’s ever done that before.”

He pressed his lips into a tight smile, then stuffed his hands into his pockets. He bounced on his toes, seeming as though he wanted to speak, so Rose stayed silent.

“I know we decorated today, but would you like to come to my house tomorrow and help me decorate? I haven’t gotten my tree yet, and all my decorations are in boxes in my basement.” He jerked his hand up to scrub it along the back of his neck, then to ruffle his hair. “Or is this too much too soon? How does this work? With my previous relationships, we had some classes together and would grab lunch every now and then or something. Or we’d hang out after school. I remember seeing some couples snogging every single afternoon in the car park after school and thought that was a little over-the-top. But now I’m not sure, ‘cos I’d like to see you again tomorrow, but maybe this is too quick?” He gulped in a breath and said, “I’m talking too much.”

Rose burst into a fit of laughter, but wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her face into his chest in the hopes of letting him know she wasn’t making fun of him.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I talk when I’m nervous.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

He pinched her side, but his entire body relaxed against her.

“Remember what I told you at breakfast? This works however we want it to work. We can move as quickly or slowly as we’re comfortable with. We’re in this together.”

“I like the sound of together,” he said softly, echoing his words from that morning.

“Does meeting up tomorrow feel too fast for you?” Rose asked.

“No. Is it too fast for you? Too much?”

“Nope,” Rose said, popping the ‘p’ like he sometimes did. “In case you haven’t noticed, I love spending time with you.”

“Who wouldn’t?” he preened.

She smacked him lightly across the chest. “So that’s settled then. Though can I… can I ask you something? Well, more like request something from you?”

“Of course,” James said, curious.

“Will you tell me if this becomes too much? If… if _I_ become…?” She couldn’t force the words out, her cheeks heating in a combination of embarrassment and self-consciousness.

“You will never become too much,” James said fiercely, gripping her chin lightly to make her look at him. His gaze was achingly gentle. “Never, Rose.”

The intensity in his eyes comforted her. She hid her face in his chest before she admitted, “Jimmy sometimes told me I was too clingy.”

“Jimmy was an idiot and a twat,” James said. “And I’m not him. I was facetious a moment ago, but I need you to know that I love spending time with you too, Rose. I _love_ spending time with you. Even if we weren’t dating, I would’ve wanted to spend time with you as a friend, despite not having to meet up to study anymore. I would’ve wanted to go on mate-dates with you for the rest of our time at uni, and even beyond that. Yes, you’re my girlfriend, but more importantly, you’re my best friend.”

Rose smiled into his jacket and gave him a tight squeeze. “Thanks, James.”

“I love you, Rose,” he said.

“Love you, too,” she mumbled, still reeling from the fact that she was allowed to say those words aloud to him.

“Er… is it too forward of me to ask for a goodnight kiss?”

Rose pulled back from the embrace. James’s cheeks reddened and he nodded, looking slightly put out. Before he could apologize or begin rambling again, Rose cradled his jaw and rocked onto her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. Fighting a smile, she pulled away just before he could attempt to reciprocate.

“No, not too forward,” she said, biting her lip around a grin.

“Oh. Right. Yes.” His voice cracked, and he coughed to clear it. “That’s not fair, Rose Tyler. I wasn’t ready!”

“Guess we’ll have to do it again,” she said, but James was already moving towards her.

He wrapped one hand around the nape of her neck while the other caressed her cheek, holding her still as he brushed his lips to the corner of her mouth. A shiver that had nothing to do with the chill night air rippled down her spine. He pulled back only to plant another feather-light kiss to the other corner of her mouth.

“James.”

“Hmm?” He kissed her upper lip, then the cleft between her lip and chin.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and connected their lips head-on. He smirked into the kiss, then angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Her knees trembled as pleasure and desire bolted through her, making her head spin.

Their lips pushed and pulled, gliding together as though they’d been doing this for ages. His lips were soft and warm, and she could taste their dinner on his breath. She sucked his bottom lip between hers and scraped her teeth against it; the throaty moan he let out made something deep in her belly clench. She tightened her hands into fists, scraping her nails across his scalp as she did so.

On and on they kissed, as though they weren’t standing on the front steps in plain view of anyone who walked by. Rose knew she should probably pull away, but it felt too good to stop. His hands skated all across her face, fingertips brushing her cheekbones, her jawline, her neck. Goosebumps trailed along behind his touch, making her tremble.

Slowly, their kisses softened from desperate hunger to sweet desire until their lips parted for a final time. Rose was breathless and dizzy with yearning; she wished they could go up to her flat and continue this in a more private, intimate setting. She wanted his mouth and hands on every part of her body; she wanted to taste every inch of him, too. She wanted to know what his body would feel like pressed up against hers with far fewer clothes than they currently wore. She wanted to pull that breathless moan from him again and again. She wanted to know every piece of him and for him to know every piece of her in return.

“I should go,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” she murmured, breathing in a lungful of the fresh, crisp night air. “Wouldn’t want Pippin to die of starvation.”

“Or for Gollum to have any other excuses to be pissy.”

Rose snorted, then she leaned up and brushed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Goodnight, James. Let me know when you get home.”

He nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he took a step away from her. She felt his gaze on her as she walked into her apartment building, hollow loneliness already setting in. By the time she made it to her flat and looked out the front window, he had only just pulled away from the curb and was driving off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear from you all about what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> I’ll be posting this every other week, so the next update will be April 15th. I don’t have a solid chapter count yet, though I’m anticipating it to be around 10ish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose continue decorating for Christmas and spending time with each other.

“We ought to be quick,” James said, slinging his arm casually around Rose’s shoulders as they entered the Christmas tree farm. “I don’t like the look of those clouds. Weather app says no rain ‘til late afternoon, but I’m not sure I trust it.”

Rose hummed and leaned into his side as they strolled through the rows of vibrant evergreens. It smelled amazing: pine needles, tree sap, freshly-cut wood, and the icy tang of winter, all blended with James’s comforting scent of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne.

“I’ve never had a live Christmas tree,” Rose said.

“Oh?”

She shook her head. “They’re expensive. When my mum and dad were first married, they bought an artificial one, and it’s the one Mum and I have used ever since. I don’t think my mum can bear to part with it, even after twenty years.”

James tightened his arm around her waist but didn’t reply. Instead, he pointed with a gloved hand to a short, squat fir tree. “How’s that one look?”

They spent a quarter of an hour wandering the farm and inspecting dozens of trees. James eventually decided on a Scots pine that was a head taller than him and so broad that when they linked hands, they couldn’t reach around and touch fingers with their other hand unless they wanted a face full of needles.

“My mum was Scottish,” James said out of the blue as an employee chopped down the tree and bound it in netting for the trip home. “My dad used to tell me my Scottish came out whenever I got overly excited.”

So that was the subtle accent that sometimes overtook his otherwise polished Estuary tongue. She’d been wondering about it for months.

“Dad made the same joke to my mum every year at Christmas: “It’s your tree!” So we always had to get a Scots pine for the holidays,” James said, his tone turning wistful. “I haven’t been able to break the habit. I’ve tried; I browse other trees, but undoubtedly I always end up getting a Scots pine because it looks and smells like Christmas from when I was a kid.”

“That’s lovely,” Rose murmured, wrapping her arm around one of his. “That’s a lovely memory to have.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, a small smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

Within minutes, the Christmas tree farm employee had the tree secured to the top of James’s car. After paying, they drove back to James’s house. It took a bit of finagling, but between the two of them, they got the tree down off his car and into the house, where they were greeted emphatically by a black and gray tabby.

“Hi Pip.” The cat rubbed up against Rose’s shins, chirping at her; she obliged him with a full-body stroke. He pushed his head into her hand, lifting himself up onto his back paws to keep her hand on him.

“Oh, come here, you,” she crooned, taking him into her arms.

His eyes fluttered shut as he nuzzled his face into her chin and neck, purring loudly.

“I swear he loves you more than he loves me,” James pouted, leaning the tree against the front door as he shucked off his shoes.

“Who wouldn’t?” she asked sweetly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He slapped a hand to his heart. “Rose Tyler, I’m wounded. _Wounded_!”

She couldn’t help but giggle at him. Then, just to see him splutter, she peered up at him through her lashes and asked coyly, “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

As she hoped, his cheeks pinkened and his mouth moved but no words came out. She was not expecting him, however, to say, “Kiss it where?”

Well. This was a delightful turn of events.

She bit her lip. “Anywhere you’d like.”

His eyes darkened and his lips parted. His gaze dropped to her mouth and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

Keeping eye contact, Rose crouched and set Pippin on the floor, ignoring his protesting chirps. She stepped towards James, who took a step forward as well until their fronts were pressed flush together.

His hands dropped to her waist, his thumbs caressing her hips through her jeans. She now wished she’d worn something else, trousers with thinner fabric. Nevertheless, the touch was nice, and she subtly arched her hips into his. His breathing stuttered.

“Where to start,” she mused, making a show of tracing his face with her eyes.

“I have a suggestion,” he said, voice cracking.

“Oh?”

He dipped his head until the tip of his nose skimmed along hers, then he slotted his lips over hers. She sighed at the gentle pressure and fisted his hands into the front of his jacket for balance as she rocked up onto her toes, deepening the kiss.

It was relatively chaste, just a firm press of lips together, but it felt amazing. The soft, smooth warmth of his lips glided across hers in a dance that was becoming so familiar.

A howling cry and skittering feet broke them apart. Dazed, Rose looked around for the cause of the disturbance. James knew immediately; he stepped away from her and said, “Gollum, leave him alone.”

Gollum was standing at the entrance to the living room, his fur bristled and his back arched, while Pippin cried from the sofa cushions. Gollum growled, then slinked off down the hall.

“Did that big meanie scare you?” James cooed, stepping over to Pippin.

The cat nudged his head into James’s offered hand, gladly taking the affection.

“What’s the story with Gollum?” she asked, slipping her shoes off beside his at the front door. Ridiculously, the sight of their shoes resting side by side did funny things to her stomach, and a stupid little smile tugged at her lips. “He seems to hate everyone and everything.”

“I found him shortly after moving into this house,” James answered. “I was walking around, getting a feel for the area, and I heard something crying from a storm drain. I followed the noise and found him half-drowned and starved. I pulled him out and took him to the vet. He wasn’t chipped and nobody responded to the adverts that I’d found him. For all intents and purposes, he was a stray; though he’d been neutered and was in relatively good health, so he must have had a family at some point. The vet estimated him to be about fifteen years old, which meant there was a slim chance he’d get adopted, especially with that shining personality he’s got. So I took him home with me. A year and a half later, he’s still kicking.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Rose said.

“Some days I regret saving his sorry arse,” he scoffed. “But for the most part, he keeps to himself, and Merry and Pippin have more or less learned to leave him alone. There are exceptions, of course, but overall it’s not a bad situation.” James scratched Pippin’s chin one more time. “Right. Shall we get the tree up?”

Turning on Christmas music to set the mood, James and Rose got to work. She thoroughly enjoyed the experience of putting up a live Christmas tree, despite the challenges and hazards. It nearly toppled onto them as they tried to heft it into the stand because they were laughing too hard when James mimicked Ross from _Friends_.

“Pivot. Pivot! Pivooooot!”

“Stop that!” Rose squealed, gasping for breath and trying not to lose her grip on the pine.

James giggled in response and grabbed the tree with both hands as it wobbled precariously.

Needles fell down her shirt and were uncomfortably pricking her breasts, but finally they got the tree into the stand. She had the job of holding it upright while James screwed the fasteners against the trunk.

“Not too bad,” James said, stepping back to admire their work. “Looks straight enough to me.”

“It’s wonderful,” Rose said, grinning.

Though more work, putting up the tree had been more enjoyable than twisting together the pieces of the artificial tree her mum had. And this tree now made James’s entire living room smell like pine, adding to the overall festive ambience. Rose wished she could justify getting a real tree every year.

 _One day,_ she promised herself. _We’ll get a real live tree every year. And we’ll live in a house with a big back garden where we can plant it outside once the holidays are over, and we’ll watch all of our Christmas trees grow and survive for years and years to come._

She was almost startled by how easily the vision came to her, and by how natural it was that James was in it. It was as though he was always meant to be in her life, and she didn’t want to think of a future that didn’t include him.

Perhaps it should have scared her. After all, she had known James for all of three months. And yet, a sense of rightness settled on her, as though it was always meant to be like this. She didn’t know if it was fate or foolish, hopeless optimism.

“Let’s give it a bit of time to fluff out, then we’ll put the lights and ornaments on.”

She started at James’s voice right behind her. “Fluff out?”

James gestured to the branches. “See how they’re still sort of pointing up from being tied in that netting? In time, gravity will bring the branches back down. But there’s still plenty of other decorations to put up. If you’re still interested?”

“Of course.” She then winced as a pine needle poked into her breast. “Er… give me a minute first. I think some needles fell down my shirt.”

She retreated down the hall but heard him call out, “Let me know if you need any help.”

She whirled around and saw him smirking at her.

“Cheeky,” she muttered with a fond eye-roll.

A few minutes and half a dozen extracted pine needles later, Rose returned to the living room to see several large tote bins scattered throughout the living room. James was nowhere to be seen, but a door was open off the entrance to the kitchen, and a quick peek told her it led down to a basement she didn’t know was there.

“D’you need help with anything?” she called down.

“Nah, this is the last of them,” he yelled, his voice distant and muffled.

A minute later, he appeared with one more bin in his arms. She jumped away from the doorway to let him pass, then she shut the door behind him.

They spent the rest of the morning putting up James’s decorations. He’d accumulated many over the years, and by the time they were about to break for lunch, it seemed as though his living room had thrown up Christmas decorations. It was beautiful, though; Rose had always loved Christmas decorations, but didn’t dare beg her mother to buy more than what they already had.

“Let me finish hanging this then we can get something to eat,” James said, climbing up onto a chair to string up a strand of garland above his fireplace.

Rose nodded, and absently turned to the window. Her heart fell when she saw how gray it was outside. “Er, James? When was the snow supposed to start?”

“Hmm? Oh, er, later this afternoon.”

Rose spun away from the window and stopped short. With his arms above his head, the hem of his jumper had ridden up, exposing his midriff. Her belly clenched as she watched the flex and pull of the muscles in his lower back. His jeans were slung low on his hips, giving her a view of the waistband of his pants, as well as the glorious dimples at the bottom of his spine, a perfect resting place for her hands during certain other activities…

“Why, has it started already?”

Her cheeks heated as she directed her attention to his face, ignoring the smug smirk he flashed her. She cleared her throat and glanced back outside. “Yeah, looks icy already.”

He hopped off the chair and joined her at the window. He wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing his front against her back, and settled his chin at her shoulder. She couldn’t help but lean into him.

Outside, the clouds overhead were a thick, pearly gray as a mixture of snow, sleet, and rain fell from the sky. The trees and ground shimmered and shone with ice and a thin layer of crunchy snow.

Sighing, he said, “Right, let’s get you home before it gets much worse.”

Rose’s chest hollowed out that their afternoon together was cut short, but she agreed. She followed him to the front door and they each slipped on their shoes. James grabbed his car keys then led her outside.

The temperature had dropped significantly since their outing that morning, and Rose shivered as she stepped down off his front porch…

...And promptly fell on her arse.

She squealed when her feet skittered out from under her. Her arms pinwheeled for a heartbeat before shooting back to break her fall.

“Rose!” James crouched beside her a moment later. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said with a grimace, even as the seat of her pants grew cold and wet from the soaked pavement.

She hissed and brought her hands up to inspect the damage. They were scraped and with how tender her palms felt, she figured they might bruise later.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, inspecting her hands.

“Not your fault,” she said with a shrug.

James stood and bent down to help her to her feet. She stood stiffly, scared to move lest she slip again.

“Here, hold onto my arm,” he said, extending it towards her.

She gripped it fiercely and baby-stepped her way towards his car. They each nearly slipped a few more times in the short walk to his ice-covered car.

“Blimey, it must have been sleeting for longer than we thought,” he said, working on scraping off his windshield.

“James, I dunno if you should be driving in this,” she said cautiously.

“It’s just gonna get worse the longer we wait,” he said, continuing to chip away at the layer of ice on his vehicle.

“It’s already bad,” she protested. “Please, James. We can figure something else out. I can call for an Uber or something. Or we can wait it out… see if some of this melts off later tonight.”

But she knew it would only get colder as the afternoon bled into evening.

He was quiet for a minute, then he said, “Or… you could, I dunno, stay the night? I mean, it’s not like you haven’t stayed over before. You’re always welcome to my guest room. And I know you don’t have any of your stuff, but you can borrow anything I have in the house. If you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, relieved.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I kinda like you, you know.”

She beamed. “I kinda like you, too.”

“Let’s get inside. I can give you something to change into, and I want to take a look at your hands.”

He held out his arm for her once more, and together they skated back into the house without further incident. James guided her down the hall into his bedroom, then opened his closet doors.

“Anything I give you will be massive on you. But it’s better than having a wet bum. Here. How about this?” He snagged a pair of tracksuit bottoms off a hanger. “You can roll up the legs and waist.” He moved deeper into his closet for a hooded sweatshirt. “Again, it’ll be huge on you…”

“It’s perfect,” she interrupted. “Thanks, James.”

He nodded, bobbing his head up and down. “Well. Er. When you’re changed, we can toss your clothes in the laundry. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

“You don’t want to watch? After all that bravado of offering to help me pick pine needles out of my bra?” she asked, biting her bottom lip. His eyes went wide, a deer-in-the-headlights expression that made her laugh. “M’teasing. I’ll be out in a sec.”

He swallowed hard then spun on his heel without another word, leaving Rose shaking her head after him. She tugged off her sodden jeans as quickly as she could, though her movements were impeded by her sore hands. Her palms were red and raw. Bits of dirt and gravel clung to her skin, so she went into his adjoining en suite to wash her hands with soapy water.

It stung terribly, but Rose forced herself to clean them thoroughly. They were trembling by the time she finished. She then rinsed them with cool water to soothe the wounds.

That task finished, she re-entered the bedroom and picked up the clothes James had lent her. She debated with herself for a moment before she shucked off her knickers. The back had gotten soaked through her jeans as well. She tried to ignore the fact that she would be wearing James’s trousers pants-less.

The tracksuit bottoms were big on her, but it was mostly the legs that were too long. Thanks to his narrow hips, they fit her well enough. She made sure to cinch them tightly at her waist; she was mortified at the thought of them slipping down in front of James. She then rolled the legs up until her feet were freed.

His sweatshirt was cozily big on her. It fell below her hips and the sleeves engulfed her hands, but it felt like being wrapped up in a hug from him. She selfishly took a minute to breathe in the scent of him clinging to the fabric. God, he smelled amazing.

Before she joined him in the living room, she searched his room for socks. Hers had gotten damp through her shoes. She stepped up to his dresser and tried to determine which drawer he would keep socks in. She herself organized her draws in the order in which she dressed herself, and socks were one of the last things she put on, so they were in one of her bottom drawers.

She opened it on a whim, and found a bunch of t-shirts. She couldn’t help but scan through the assortment: he had everything from plain cotton shirts to band shirts to shirts with science puns on them. The sight of them made her smile; they suited him.

The next drawer she tried contained ties and socks, but the type of socks he might wear if he needed to dress up. They were all plain and in various shades of black, navy, gray, and beige.

The next drawer contained pants. She couldn’t help but observe that they were primarily soft-looking boxer-briefs. Before she could slam the drawer shut, her gaze landed on a small box nestled in the front corner. Condoms.

_Oh. Oh!_

Her cheeks heated. She hadn’t even considered birth control, though she was glad he had. But now she wondered when the hell he had bought condoms. She gingerly picked up the unopened box and inspected the expiration date: January 2020. They must be relatively recent then, if they didn’t expire for another three years. So when the hell had he decided to buy condoms?

Tucking that question away for later, when she could admit to him that she’d snooped through his drawers, Rose also made a mental note to make an appointment with the university health center to see a gynecologist. Condoms were great in a pinch, but she hated the feel of them; too much chafing and burning unless copious quantities of lubrication were used. She’d rather go on the pill or something.

“Socks, socks, socks,” she mumbled, opening another drawer only to find pajamas. “He _has_ to own socks.”

Finally, the very last drawer she tried, she was greeted with a sea of socks of all shape, size, color, and style. Nothing was matched, and it nearly gave Rose a headache trying to sift through them. Her fingers eventually met with something fuzzy, and she pulled out a thick woolen sock. _Perfect_.

It took another minute to find its matching pair, and when she did, she closed the drawer and slid the socks on. A second later, a knock sounded from the door.

“Rose? You all right in there?”

“Yeah,” she called out, skipping up to the door. She opened it, and he jumped back, startled. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how long it’s been. I decided to wash out my hands.”

She held her palms out towards him. He took them gently in his hands and angled them towards the light. He frowned down at them, but then planted the softest of kisses to her palms.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not too badly,” she said with a shrug.

“Come. Let’s eat, then we’ll decorate the tree.”

After chucking her damp, dirty clothes into the wash and eating a simple lunch of turkey sandwiches, they turned their attention to the Christmas tree. Bored with the music, James flipped on the television, where several football games were being broadcast.

“D’you mind?” he asked, peeking at her over his shoulder. “You were introduced to American football at Thanksgiving, right?”

“Yep. And no, I don’t mind. Who’s playing?” she asked.

“Philadelphia Eagles and the Baltimore Ravens,” he answered, coming to her side to help her untangle a strand of lights. “I swear, no matter how neatly I put these away, they’re always knotted when I take them out again the next season.”

“S’the laws of the universe, innit? Entropy and all that and how the universe spontaneously and readily drifts towards disorder.”

“Hey, you remembered!” he crowed, beaming. “Look at you, Rose Tyler! Putting all of that fancy chemistry knowledge to good use.”

She giggled at him and continued untangling the lights.

The domesticity of the afternoon and evening was comforting and soothing. Together, they finished decorating James’s tree, then sat together on the sofa to watch the end of the football game. The Eagles lost narrowly by one point after they failed to make the two-point conversion after a touchdown.

“Why not go for the traditional extra point?” Rose asked. “Tie it, rather than risk losing?”

“From what I’ve heard, this coach is fond of taking risks. Sometimes they pay off, and sometimes”—James gestured to the TV—“it doesn’t. The team is relatively young, though. This is the rookie season for the head coach and the quarterback. It’ll be interesting how they develop over the coming years.”

Rose made a noncommittal noise and instead tucked her head against his shoulder, content to watch the new football game that the network switched to.

That evening, James cooked dinner for them. He’d had chicken marinating in a teriyaki/soy sauce mixture all day, and Rose watched from her seat on the countertop as he made knock-off Chinese takeaway.

“I love chicken fried rice. It was one of the first things I learned how to cook, and it’s fairly quick and easy.”

“I hate cooking,” Rose confessed. “It makes too many dishes and it’s depressing to put all that effort into making something I’m going to eat by myself.” She paused, considering, then added, “Jimmy always had this air of expectation that I would do the cooking and washing up. At first I was glad to do it. Or maybe I was excited that I had someone to cook for. But after a while, it wasn’t fun to be forced to do something.”

“Here’s your nightly reminder that Jimmy Stone is a twat,” James said lightly, though Rose could see the tightness in his jaw.

She snorted humorlessly. “Yeah, I still remember.”

“I actually love cooking,” James continued. “So never fear, my lady, because your knight in shining armor will always be here to make sure you are well-fed with a variety of dishes.”

Rose laughed and leaped off the counter. She strolled up to James and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her face into his back between his shoulder blades.

“I love you,” she murmured into his shirt. She inhaled deeply, managing to catch the smell of him despite the delicious aroma wafting from the skillet he was tending to. “Very much, James.”

“I love you, too,” he said. “Does it still feel weird to you that we can say that now?”

“A bit,” she said. “So I’m gonna keep saying it ‘til it isn’t weird anymore, and then I’m gonna keep saying it for the rest of our lives.”

He giggled high in his throat. That was quickly becoming one of her favorite sounds, and she wanted to hear him make it every single day. Perhaps she should be scared of how deep her affection and attraction for James went. Hell, they’d known each other for three months. But it was like she’d known him forever. Like a small piece of her soul had been calling out for him, and he finally called back.

Her cheeks heated a bit at how ridiculous she was being. She shouldn’t be so sappy; it was cliché and insincere.

She halted those thoughts in their tracks, shaking out the voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother. When Rose had fawned over Jimmy to her mum, Jackie had told her she was being melodramatic. And perhaps she had been, at the time. She’d been young and Jimmy had been her first love. Of course everything would seem intense without any reference to draw.

With James, she had Jimmy as a reference, but that was so pale compared to what she felt for James. She had once hoped that she and Jimmy would be together forever; thankfully, that didn’t work out the way she’d planned.

Now she hoped she and James would be together forever, and she found she actually believed it. She truly believed he was the one for her. He was her best friend. Jimmy had not been. She hadn’t realized that she could be friends with her romantic partner. Sure, she enjoyed Jimmy’s company, but she hadn’t wanted to call him up and tell him every little inconsequential detail about her day. She did with James. She always wanted to talk to him, and to listen to him, and to be with him. Even if they were sitting in absolute silence, she wanted to be near him.

“Penny for ‘em?” James stroked his thumb along her wrist bone, pulling her attention back to him.

“I just… I really love you. More than I knew I could ever love someone. You keep saying that this is new to you, and you’re unsure of what to do, but this is new to me, too. Yeah, I was in a serious relationship before, but looking back, it wasn’t as perfect as I thought. I wasn’t as deeply in love as I thought. So now I’m trying to navigate this new, strange, and scary territory of being wholly and consumingly in love.”

He gave her wrist a squeeze then turned around. His expression was open and soft. He reached up and stroked her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her head into the caress.

“I never thought of it like that,” he said, his voice thick.

“I hadn’t either until now,” she admitted. “I… I can’t help but compare you to Jimmy. And putting the two of you side by side…” Her cheeks flamed, but she soldiered on. “It’s humiliating now to realize how horribly I was treated. And I just… let it happen.”

His face fell. “You don’t need to be ashamed, Rose. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was a bit,” she said with a shrug. She had ignored the warnings her mother and friends had given her. She had ignored the voice in the back of her head that asked her to consider if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She had ignored all the warning signs from that final year she and Jimmy were together. She had swallowed all of the lies he’d fed her, about how he would change his behavior, how he would come home sooner, how he would cut back on his drinking, how he would watch how much money he spent. She had been complacent with her life, giving him so many excuses until she, too, believed them. And there was nobody to blame but herself for that.

“It wasn’t,” he said firmly, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I’ll tell you that every day if I have to. But mostly I’m going to spend our forever showing you how extraordinary you are, and how very loved you are. Because you are. You are the most magnificent person I’ve ever met, and I love you so much.”

Tears burned her eyes, and she flung her arms around his shoulders before he could see them. He held her just as tightly and planted row upon row of tiny kisses to the side of her head. After a minute, though, he whispered, “I need to check on the food, love.”

Her heart swelled at the term of endearment. _Love_. She grinned to herself as she rolled the word around her mouth. _Love_. She was his _love_. And he was hers.

She hugged him from behind again as he stirred the sizzling pan of chicken, rice, and veggies. He hummed and leaned into her body. In that moment, standing with James at the stove, Rose had never been more content with her life.

“Oh, can you feed the boys?” James asked when Pippin trotted into the room.

The cat walked right up to James’s feet and began yowling. Rose winced. He sounded so pitiful.

“Where’s the food?” she asked.

“In that closet,” he said, gesturing with an elbow. “It’s in a plastic bin. Pippin once chewed through a bag of food and, between the three of them, they ate half of it in one go.”

Rose chuckled and went to the closet James had indicated. Pippin, realizing where she was and what she was doing, left James’s side and began prancing at her feet instead, chirping and crying. She grabbed the tub of food, popped the lid, and went over to the two bowls along the back wall of the kitchen, placing a scoop of food in each of the bowls. She then moved to the cat tree, where Gollum’s half-full bowl rested at the base of the tree.

A growl sounded from inside the box, and Rose glanced up to see two luminous eyes deep within it.

“Oh, enough,” Rose said to him. “I’m just feedin’ you.” She filled his bowl as well, then took a few of the pieces and set them inside the box he was hiding in. “See? It’s only a bit of food.”

As she walked away, she heard him crunching on the food she’d given him.

When she got back to the kitchen, James had spooned their dinner into two bowls and now carried them to the kitchen table. He then came back to the kitchen for the bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“This all right?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle. “It’s Riesling. I can get you something else, if you’d prefer.”

“Nope, that’s fine.”

She followed him to the table and sat down as he popped the cork and poured them each a glass of wine. Everything looked and smelled delicious. He’d even garnished it with sesame seeds and slivers of green onion.

“Ten out of ten for presentation,” she said, clinking her wine glass against his.

He beamed and took a long sip of wine, then he heartily dug into his dinner, shoveling a heaping, steaming spoonful into his mouth. Rose followed suit, albeit a smaller portion, but wished she hadn’t. Flavors exploded across her tongue and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped.

“God, you’re on cooking duty for the rest of our lives. James, this is amazing.”

His cheeks and ears pinkened as a shy but self-satisfied smile crossed his face. “Glad you like it. What other foods do you like?”

“I’m not that picky of an eater,” Rose answered. “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to waste food. If I didn’t like what we were having, I could either make myself something else, or go hungry. I learned to eat anything.”

James made a face. “That’s no fun. And I don’t want you to ‘ _eat anything_ ’ with me. I want to make foods you’ll love. Come on. You have to like some foods more than others?”

Rose began listing the foods she particularly enjoyed—fish and chips, pizza, a hearty roast. On and on her list went, and she thought she should be embarrassed by unhealthy those foods were, but James was grinning and nodding along, spouting off various recipes he would have to try for her.

“And I’m always a sucker for takeaway,” Rose said, gesturing to her empty bowl. “This was absolutely wonderful, James. Thank you.”

She stood from the table and went to his side to peck a soft, slow kiss to his cheek. Then she took his bowl from him and walked to the sink. She heard the scrape of chair legs against the floor; James appeared at her side a moment later and opened up the dishwasher.

“No, no. You cooked, I’ll wash up,” Rose said, shooing him away. 

“I don’t mind helping,” he protested.

“You can help in the same way I helped cook,” she said. He cocked his head to the side, and she flashed a grin, pointing to the countertop. “Sit there and look pretty.”

He snorted, but dutifully boosted himself onto the counter as she began giving the dishes a rinse, then loaded them into the dishwasher. James jiggled his feet and tapped his long fingers against his thighs.

“I feel stupid,” he said half a minute later, jumping off the counter and stepping to the opposite side of the dishwasher. “It’ll go faster with two.”

“But you cooked.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you need to do all the dishes. It’s not a tit for tat, because then where does it end? Are we going to keep track of every single household chore that we do and keep tally so that it’s even?”

“Could do,” Rose said, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. “We’re a team. Now let me help with the damn dishes.”

Rose let out a long-suffering sigh, but scooted over to make more room for him.

When they’d finished, James peered outside. It was dark, and the lights from the streetlamps glistened on the roads and the trees.

“It’s still a bit icy,” James said. “Guess you’re stuck here tonight.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, it’s probably not ideal,” James said. “You haven’t got any of your stuff with you.”

“I’ve got you,” she said softly, watching the flurries of snow float down from the dark sky. She bumped her hip against his and said, “Stuck with you, that’s not so bad.”

James ducked down towards her, his lips landing on her temple. She smiled to herself and draped her arm around his waist. He continued planting kisses along the side of her face, from her temple down to her jaw. Between kisses he asked, “Want to watch a Christmas film?”

“Yeah,” she replied, even though she would like for him to keep kissing her.

Instead, he brushed a kiss to her lips, gave her waist a squeeze, and released her. He moved to the living room and the small bookcase beside the television that housed his DVD collection.

“You in the mood for anything in particular?” he asked. “We can go the traditional cartoon route, with _Rudolph_ or _The Grinch_. Or there’s the ye olde classics, with _It’s a Wonderful Life_ or _Miracle on 34th Street_. Or the modern classics: _A Christmas Story_ or _Elf_ or…”

“Ooh, _Love Actually_ ,” Rose squealed, spotting the title from the stack in his hands. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” James said, popping the DVD out of its case.

They were soon cuddled up on the couch beneath a blanket, watching the film. James put his footrest up, reclining his long legs in front of him. Rose’s feet joined his a moment later as she tucked herself into James’s side. She nuzzled into his shoulder, slinging her arm around his hips.

A minute later, Merry and Pippin hopped onto the sofa. The former looked a little confused as to where to sit, but Pippin went right in and plopped down in the trench of James’s thighs. He purred loudly, lying on his back with his four paws sticking into the air.

James absently stroked the cat’s stomach while Merry cautiously stepped onto Rose’s lap. He sniffed her for a minute, then circled her lap a few times before settling heavily, sighing. Rose scratched his ears and chin, feeling the deep vibrations in his throat.

“Good boy,” she said, stroking his smooth head.

She was suddenly exhausted. Her belly was full and she was snuggled up beside her best friend watching a holiday romantic comedy. Moreover, James seemed perfectly content as well. He wasn’t playing on his phone, or trying to talk about a sports match or a band or anything—he was simply present in the moment with her, his arm around her waist, his cheek resting atop her head.

Rose nestled impossibly closer, as though she could physically fuse their bodies together to inhabit one space. James hummed and tightened his hold on her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. She brought her knees up, careful not to squish Merry. He chirped and leaped off her lap and onto the back of the couch behind her head instead.

“Sorry, bud,” she murmured, reaching back to pet him.

“Are you comfy enough?” James asked.

“Yeah, sorry, just trying to get closer.”

“If you get any closer, you’ll be in my lap,” he drawled. “Not that I’d be opposed to that, but Pippin might be.”

Rose snorted and continued wriggling until she’d squirmed her feet under his knees and was now folded as tightly into herself as she could be.

“There,” she announced, snuggling deeply into his side.

She tugged the blanket up to her chin, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. James’s hand curled into her hip, anchoring her to him. A minute later, those fingers absently stroked her side until they wandered beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt, meeting bare skin. He froze.

“S’okay,” she whispered, giving his waist a squeeze.

His fingers tentatively grazed the skin of her side, the strokes slow and soothing. Rose breathed out a long breath and melted into him. This was it. This was what she wanted for the rest of her life: someone she could be perfectly quiet with. Even after having spent the entire day together, she enjoyed his silent, solid presence beside her and wasn’t itching for her own space. For that matter, neither was he.

“Thanks for today,” she blurted.

“Hmm? Whatever for? Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You helped decorate this entire house with me.”

“But you…” She swallowed and tucked her face further into his chest. “You wanted me here.”

James was silent for a long moment and his fingers stopped stroking her waist. Finally, he said, “I always want you here. I told you last night, but I’ll tell you again: I love spending time with you. I’ve loved spending time with you for months now. Our study sessions were the highlight of my day because it meant I could be with you for hours on end. I’m sorry that you doubt it, but I will tell you every day how happy I am to be with you.”

Her cheeks burned. “It’s not that I doubt you, James. I don’t want you thinking that. But…” She exhaled and cursed herself for having started this conversation in the first place. Why did she keep bringing it up? Why did she keep telling James how insecure she felt? How long would it be before he got sick of hearing about it? How long until he realized her emotional baggage was far too heavy?

“I understand,” he said quietly, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “You were hurt. Quite terribly. Quite personally. I don’t know how much of it you’ve dealt with, and it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but it is my place to tell you that you are not a burden, Rose. I love every piece of you. I’m sure there are parts I haven’t seen yet, but I know that I will love those too.”

She blinked back the burning in her eyes and squeezed his waist hard. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

He brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “Any time. And I mean that. _Any_ time. Talking helps. I know we didn’t go through the same thing, but still. Talking helps. Even if you feel like you’re saying the same thing again and again, that’s okay. I must have told my Aunt Sarah I hated my parents a hundred different times in a hundred different ways. But it helped, if only to let one other person know the thoughts in my head.”

She nodded, but stayed silent. Despite his offer—which she appreciated more than she could ever explain—she didn’t _want_ to talk about Jimmy. She didn’t want to relive the small hurts that eventually culminated in a completely broken heart. She didn’t want his memory to spoil what she had with James. And moreover, she didn’t want that voice in her head to be second-guessing every little part of her relationship with James, questioning his motives or wondering how she could and should repay him for anything he did for her. She just wanted to exist in the moment with him.

So she stuffed that stupid voice deep into the far recesses of her mind, snuggled closer to James, and returned her attention to the television in time to ogle a soaking wet Colin Firth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear from you all about what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> Next update: April 29th


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is in a bit of a bad mood, but Rose is always there to make him feel better.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~6000 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: teen (this is going up next chapter) ;) ;) ;)

Rose was mildly confused when she awoke. Her pillow didn’t smell like her own pillow, and she was sprawled across the mattress, legs splayed, and yet her feet weren’t dangling off the edge of the bed. Furthermore, a warm mass was cocooned by her side, pressed tightly to her breast.

She shifted and heard a quiet _prrrp_. A brown tabby was tucked into her chest, blinking sleepily up at her. _Merry_. That’s right, she’d spent the night at James’s house.

The cat made another little noise, then set his chin back onto his paws and promptly fell asleep again. She stroked his head leisurely as she finally remembered where she was.

She’d dozed off on the couch with James last night, when they’d decided to watch another Christmas film after _Love Actually_. He had awoken her gently, then guided her into his bedroom. That alone had been enough to jolt her awake. _Did he want…? Did he expect…?_

But no, he’d led her into his en suite, where he showed her a few bottles of face wash and moisturizers. 

“Here. You can use any of these, if you’d like. It’s not much, and it’s not fancy. But they may help take your makeup off. Don’t feel like you have to use anything, though. Not sure if your skin is sensitive to product changes.”

Her heart clenched. “Thank you. You’re like, the first bloke I know who has a face wash.”

He grimaced. “Men perspire and can get clogged pores too. I dunno why more men _don’t_ regularly wash their faces. It feels nice and helps the skin stay baby-soft.”

Rose could attest to that. He had really nice skin from what she could recall when her fingers cradled his face during the kisses they’d shared.

“Agreed. D’you need this stuff too, though?” she asked. “I don’t want to take away from your nightly skincare routine.” She stuck her tongue out at him as she grinned.

He rolled his eyes. “Leave it in your bathroom when you’ve finished, and I’ll come get it from you.” His cheeks pinkened. “Oh… er… were you… did you want to sleep in here…?”

 _With me_ were the words he left unsaid. She rested her hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly. “The guest room is perfect.”

His muscles loosened. “Great.”

James left her to pick out a face wash, and reappeared holding a small stack of clothes. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Er. Everything’s clean. You don’t have to wear them though, if that’s too awkward. Just thought they’d make more suitable pajamas than those tracksuit bottoms.”

That’s when Rose realized a pair of boxers was resting atop a folded shirt.

“I use them as pajamas too sometimes,” he continued, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s not like they’re my everyday pants. They’re fairly new. And fresh from the laundry.”

Because she couldn’t help it, she teased, “It’ll be the closest my bits have come to touching your bits so far.”

He blushed from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck.

Rose giggled. “It’s great. Thank you.”

He nodded. After she picked up a bottle of face wash and moisturizer, James walked her down the hall and to the guest bathroom. “There’s a new toothbrush and toothpaste in there. And shampoo and soap in the shower. For my Aunt Sarah, when she comes to visit for Christmas. But go ahead and use it, if you want to shower.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Right. Guess this is goodnight.”

“Guess so,” she said. She set the bottles on the vanity then turned back to James. She reached up and cradled his cheeks in her palms before she pressed her lips to his. A sweet, gentle peck, one that he returned just as softly. “G’night, James.”

“Night,” he breathed, and he kissed her once more before he retreated to his bedroom.

Currently, Rose continued petting James’s cat as she listened to the silent house. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told her it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. She groaned and rubbed the heels of her hands into her scratchy eyes. Her work shift at the grocery store that afternoon was sure to be a delight.

Knowing she wouldn’t be getting any more sleep, Rose crawled out of bed and crept down the hall to the laundry room. She found her clothes from the day before in the dryer, balled up and wrinkly, but at least they were clean. She shook them out as best she could, then carried them to the bathroom to change into after a shower.

She showered slowly, letting the hot water wake her up. By the time she’d finished and dressed for the day, James was awake and in the kitchen, starting breakfast. The scene was so familiar, and this time Rose unashamedly stood at the entry to the kitchen and watched him.

His pajama bottoms were thin, showing off all the contours of his arse and legs. His t-shirt stretched across his chest, giving her view of his shifting shoulders as he scooped coffee grounds into the coffeemaker. He was broader than she ever realized; yes, he was tall and lanky, but that was definitely a bit of lean muscle straining against his shirt, rippling at his biceps and forearms.

She couldn’t wait to lazily explore every inch of his body. But now was not the time.

“Morning,” she chirped, stepping into the kitchen.

He peeked over his shoulder. His eyes had a glazed, sleepy look about them.

“Sorry if I woke you,” she said, cringing. “I guess I shouldn’t have showered so early.”

He shook his head. “No, no. If it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been the boys. They start begging for breakfast around seven-thirty, eight o’clock.”

“You look tired,” she said, stepping up to him.

Now that she was closer, she saw he had dark circles beneath his eyes and his skin was pale, contrasting with the stubble along his cheeks and jaw. He smiled and spun away from her.

“What d’you want for breakfast? I’ve got toast, eggs, fruit, yogurt, oatmeal. Anything you’d like, Rose Tyler!”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her cheek against his back. His muscles were tense, and his behavior… stiff. Did he regret allowing her to sleep over last night? Was this some weird sort of morning-after embarrassment, despite them not having done anything out of the ordinary the night before? 

“Whatever you want,” she said distractedly. “Are you all right, James?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, long enough that her anxiety spiked. The only sounds were the percolating of the coffeemaker and the crunching of the cats eating their breakfast. The room was quiet enough that Rose could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears as she prayed he wasn’t having second thoughts about their relationship.

“I sometimes have trouble sleeping,” he said softly. “Either I can’t fall asleep, or I can’t stay asleep. Last night was a mixture of both. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you,” she countered, tightening her arms around his waist.

He squeezed her hands in gratitude, then stepped to the side toward the refrigerator. Rose released him. Though she was glad he didn’t seem to regret her presence in his home this morning, a small knot of unease still twisted her stomach.

“What d’you want to do today?” he asked, rummaging through the fridge for a carton of eggs.

Rose grimaced. “I, er, I actually have to work.”

James stilled, his body going rigid. “Oh.”

There was so much disappointment in that one little word that a small part of her was about to call in sick.

“Sorry, I…”

“No, no,” he said with forced lightness. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you… What time do you need to be at work? Do you have time for breakfast?”

“Eleven,” she answered. “Plenty of time.”

He nodded but looked a little put out even as he chatted with her while they made breakfast. He minded the eggs while she did the toast, slathering butter and jam over the pieces before trimming off the crusts on his pieces and dumping them onto her plate instead.

He stared. “You… you cut the crusts off.”

Her cheeks heated. “Yeah. Last time we had breakfast, you didn’t eat them. And I said I’d cut them off for you in the future. You didn’t say anything, so I just assumed… They’re right here, if you want them. Or you can take mine.”

He shook his head. “No. No, I hate the crusts. They have a weird texture. You just… you remembered.” He continued staring at the plate for an uncomfortably long time. “I lived with my aunt for over seven years. She never once realized I never ate the crusts. My aunt… I love my aunt. But she didn’t want kids. I’m grateful that she took me in. She cared for me well, and I know she loves me, but she didn’t want kids, and she continued working as though she weren’t a guardian to a child. I got used to the fact that she wasn’t really the nurturing, attentive sort. And it was fine. Y’know. I wanted my own space.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Blimey, I’m making her sound awful. She’s not, I swear. But it’s… God, I dunno where I’m even going with this. I’m gonna stop talking. Thank you for my toast.”

His cheeks were crimson as he took his plate from her and scooped scrambled eggs onto it.

“Hey,” Rose said, resting her hand on his forearm. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“M’not,” he mumbled, but his pink cheeks suggested otherwise.

She squeezed his wrist. “You can talk to me about that stuff. Hell, I’ve dumped so many of my Jimmy issues on you. I can listen to yours, too.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile but didn’t say anything else. Rose sighed but didn’t push it. She instead plated her own portion of eggs and followed him to the kitchen table.

They ate in relative silence, and Rose was unsure how to dispel the awkwardness between then. She didn’t even know why it was awkward to begin with.

“Sorry,” he said quietly when they’d finished their food. “I guess I’m not in a very good mood today. It’s probably for the best you’ve got to work; I wouldn’t be very good company.”

“Did I… do something?” she asked hesitantly.

“No. Not at all.”

She chewed her lip and pressed on. “Do you… wish I hadn’t spent the night?”

James’s eyes widened and shot to hers. “What? No! Of course not. Why would you think that?”

Rose shrugged and nibbled on the remains of the crusts she’d cut from his toast.

“Do _you_ wish you hadn’t spent the night?” he asked anxiously, drumming his fingers together.

“No. But you seem… off,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Like it’s more than just that you’re tired.”

“Rose, you have honestly been the highlight of my morning,” James said. “I loved waking up to the sound of you in my home. I loved waking up and knowing that you’re here with me. I wish I could wake up with you every morning.”

The tension in her body left all at once, and she smiled shyly at him. He reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“I’m sorry I made you feel unwelcome,” he said fervently, continuing to press little kisses to her knuckles. “You’re far from unwelcome. My mood is me. It’s all me.”

He planted a final kiss to the backs of her knuckles then released her hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. At his hesitation, she quickly amended, “You don’t have to. But if you want to, I’m here to listen.”

“It’s daft,” he admitted.

“Not if it’s upset you this much,” Rose countered.

James flashed her a grateful little smile and picked up his coffee mug. It was a white mug with a heat-sensitive design on it. A molecule Rose didn’t recognize was printed on the side: a six- and five-membered nitrogen-containing ring that had a few carbons and oxygens coming off of them.

Noticing where her attention had gone, James said, “Caffeine. The molecule. It’s caffeine.” He took a long sip of his coffee, then continued, “When I can’t sleep, my mind wanders to places I’d rather it not wander to. Last night it wandered to my parents, as it often does around the holidays. Christmas was my mum’s favorite holiday. She was a devout Catholic and we attended Christmas Eve Mass every year. She never really pushed for weekly Sunday Mass. She always invited me, but I usually declined. I would, however, go with her on Christmas Eve. The church was always decorated so beautifully and we’d sing Christmas songs and hymns late into the night.

“I’m not particularly religious, and never was. I haven’t gone to church since the funeral. I sometimes wonder if my mum would be disappointed that I never found my faith. But anyway, I think about my parents more often at this time of year. And it makes me miss them more than usual. But this year… God, I’ve never missed them more because I don’t have the opportunity to introduce you to them, or them to you. I never realized that I would get so upset about the fact that I would never be able to bring a date home to meet my parents. It never really bothered me before, because of the various relationships I had, they were never serious enough for me to want to introduce them to my family. I only ever told Aunt Sarah after the relationship had ended.

“But you, Rose.” His throat bobbed, and his mouth moved wordlessly for a moment. “You’re special. You’re so special and so important to me. But I can’t tell them about you, and that hurts.”

Her eyes were burning by the time he finished, and when she blinked, a lone tear fell down her cheek. She wiped it away, then reached across the table for his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, stroking her thumb along the back of his. His eyes and smile were hollow, but he flipped his hand over and threaded their fingers together. “I would have loved to have met them. They sound like they were incredible people. They had to be, if they made you.”

She jiggled his hand a little bit, and he rewarded her with a smile. It was a fragile, thin expression, but nevertheless it was a smile. She brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed the backs of his fingers, one at a time.

“I- I would like to introduce you to my aunt though,” he said, his voice hoarse. “She’ll be in town for Christmas. I’d like for you to join us, if you don’t have other plans.”

“No plans,” she assured him. “I would love to meet her. And I would love to join you for Christmas.”

His smile became a little more genuine at that.

Sooner than Rose would have liked, it was time for them to leave so she could go back to her apartment before heading into work. James suggested they give themselves plenty of time, since he wasn’t sure of the condition of the roads after yesterday’s winter storm.

He packaged up some of last night’s leftovers for her to have for lunch, then drove them to her flat so she could change into her uniform.

“I’ll drive you to work,” James said, when he pulled up to a parking meter in front of her building. “I seriously don’t mind. I need to go out that way anyway. Need to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Er… speaking of, am I allowed to give you Christmas gifts?”

“Gifts? As in plural? More than one?”

His cheeks went a little pink. “Well, I already got you something before we began dating. A gift I would’ve given to you as my friend. But, well. We’re _dating_. I’d like to give you something a bit more personal. More meaningful. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t get you anything else.”

She could see the disappointment already brewing behind his eyes, and it twisted her heart.

“Okay,” she said. “‘Cos I might have already gotten you something too.”

He beamed, broad and unrestrained, and she couldn’t help but kiss him. He hummed into the kiss and returned it enthusiastically.

He waited at the car while she ran up to her flat and changed, then he drove her across town to the grocery store chain she worked at. The drive was silent, except for the Christmas music playing on the radio. Rose sang under her breath as she gazed admiringly at the scenery. All of the trees glittered with a layer of ice, making it look like an enchanted winter wonderland.

“You have a very pretty voice,” James said when the radio began airing advertisements.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing.

She then slid her hand across the central console to rest it on his thigh. He glanced over at her, then took a hand off the wheel to thread their fingers together. They passed the rest of the drive singing Christmas songs. Well, Rose sang. James hummed. But it was better than utter silence.

They arrived at Rose’s work sooner than she wanted to; she was loath to leave James when his mood was still so sullen. But alas, he finally pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store.

“Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily.

“Thanks,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt.

James leaned across the central console and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, then to the corner of her mouth.

“Have you got everything?” he asked, his breath whispering across her skin.

“Mhm.”

“Do you need me to pick you up tonight? What time do you get off work?”

“No, I’ll be fine taking the bus,” she replied. “Thanks, though.”

She pressed one more kiss to his lips then slid out of the car.

“Don’t forget your lunch,” he said. “Will you have time to eat it? Do you get a break?”

Rose suppressed a smile. “Yes, _Mum_.”

James grimaced and stuck his tongue out at her. She laughed.

“Bye, Rose,” he said, wiggling his fingers at her in a wave.

“Bye.” She blew him a kiss, then shut the car door and walked into the store. He had waited until she disappeared inside before driving off.

Rose waved and smiled at her fellow coworkers, made polite small talk with them, then went to the break room to put her food in the fridge. She donned her work vest, pasted on her pleasant customer-service face, and went into the store.

The grocery store was relatively dead throughout the day—no doubt everyone had stocked up on food before yesterday’s ice storm had hit. Rose appreciated it though, as it meant she didn’t need to interact with too many customers.

It was a relief to go on break. It was nearly four o’clock and she was absolutely starving. The pretzels she’d munched on between ringing up customers did nothing except make sure she didn’t faint. Her stomach growled and gurgled as she heated up the leftover chicken fried rice.

It was only tepid at best when she yanked it out of the microwave. At least she didn’t have to wait for it to cool down before she scarfed down half of it in two minutes flat.

When the immediate hunger pangs subsided, she slowed down her eating and pulled her phone out of her work vest pocket. A message from James was waiting for her.

_Sorry I was in a shit mood this morning. Thank you for being patient with me xoxo._

“It breaks my heart to see you hurting,” she said. “I will always be there to listen to whatever is bothering you, and to make you feel better if I can. And if I can’t make you feel better, to give you a hug and a kiss and let you know you’re not alone.”

While she waited for him to answer, Rose logged onto the university’s student portal and scrolled to the services section, pulling up the health center appointment calendar.

Since she received health insurance through the university, if she wanted to go to a specialist doctor—such as a gynecologist—she needed a referral. Barring emergencies, any medical attention she needed had to go through the university’s health center first. Not the most ideal setup, but at least she had coverage, even if it was the Americans' backwards style.

Although she and James hadn’t discussed how quickly they wanted their physical relationship to evolve, she wanted to be prepared. Wherever the mood took them, she wanted to be covered.

She made her request for an appointment at the university’s health center, scheduled for tomorrow morning. She hoped it would be a quick process of getting to the gynecologist to sort out birth control. 

A message from James came across right after she confirmed her appointment for tomorrow.

_Finished for the day? I’m still out shopping, I can swing by and pick you up._

Rose grimaced. “No, just on break. I’ll be here until seven or so.”

_That’s a long day._

_And you’re only just now on break??_

_Did you get to eat lunch???_

Rose laughed to herself and snapped a photo of her mostly-eaten rice. “It was just as delicious today as it was last night. Thanks again.”

_You’re just eating now?!?!?!????_

_Rose! That’s so unfair! You should have been able to eat hours ago!!_

“James, relax,” she said. “I had a small break around 2 and managed to eat a snack when no one was at my register.”

_I’m boycotting your grocery store._

“Don’t be dramatic,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.

_Boycotting._

“You’re adorable.”

_Adorable?? I think you mistyped ‘manly’ and ‘supportive’._

Rose grinned at her phone. He seemed to be in a much better mood, and that was enough to make her forget how exhausted she was from the hours she’d already worked.

“Nah, adorable. So, how was shopping?”

She and James exchanged a few more light-hearted messages before Rose resigned herself to go back to work. At least she wasn’t on the register for the rest of her shift—she would be stocking the produce section.

“Right, I gotta go,” she fired off.

_Text me when you make it home safely._

_I love you xo._

“Love you, too.”

She stuffed her phone back into her locker and went out to finish the rest of her shift.

By the time Rose clocked out at seven, she was thoroughly exhausted. Her feet were aching as she walked to the bus stop; mercifully, there were several open seats when the bus arrived to take her back home.

Her flat was cold when she stepped through the front door, but it was illuminated with the strands of Christmas lights James had helped her string across the ceiling. She smiled faintly at the decorations now sprawled across her flat and dropped her keys onto the kitchen table.

She changed out of her work clothes and into comfy pajama bottoms and a thick oversized jumper. She wished she had thought to keep James’s sweatshirt; it had been fuzzy and warm, but best of all, it had smelled like him. 

Since she had eaten lunch so late, she wasn’t all that hungry for dinner. She instead popped a bag of popcorn. While it microwaved, she texted James. “I’m home, safe and sound.”

He responded mere seconds later. _Glad to hear. How was the rest of work?_

_I’m still incensed that they had you working for so long._

“My hero. And it was dull; I made pyramids out of apples to keep myself entertained. How was the rest of your day?”

He told her about his shopping trip, then about how he had salted the driveways and sidewalks for several of his elderly neighbors. She smiled at that.

_What are your plans for this evening? Anything exciting?_

She snorted. The popcorn had ceased popping, so she turned off the microwave and grabbed the bag.

“Not unless you consider stuffing my face with popcorn and watching a movie ‘exciting’,” she said, pouring her snack into a bowl.

 _The height of excitement._ After a minute, he asked, _May I join you?_

_Not physically. Although I suppose I could drive to your flat._

_But we could pick a movie and watch together. From our own couches. Start it at the same time._

_Netflix and chill date night?_

Rose choked on the handful of popcorn she’d shoved into her mouth. Her eyes swam as she coughed and spluttered.

“Do you know what that means?”

_Um… a relaxing movie night?_

“Try again, using the internet.”

Rose went to her kitchen for a glass of water to wash down the last of the kernels still stuck in her throat. A moment later, her phone buzzed in her hand with an incoming call.

“Why on earth would anyone use that phrase to mean shagging?!” His voice was high and shrill, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! Obviously we can’t Netflix and chill from different homes. But even if we were in the same house, I wouldn’t have meant it in that way. I meant it literally. Watch something on Netflix and chill out on the couch.”

“I know,” Rose managed between giggles. “Well, now you’ve been enlightened on the innuendo of modern dating.”

“Hmph.” James was quiet for a beat, then he asked, “So, do you want to? Watch a film together?”

“Sure,” Rose said, holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she gathered her popcorn, bottled water, and her laptop before heading to her bedroom to get comfy. “Er… I don’t have Netflix though.”

“You can use my log-in.”

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly.

A few minutes later, lounging against half a dozen pillows and buried beneath her sheets and comforter, she pressed play on a crime drama they’d agreed on. They stayed on the phone for the duration of the movie, but found themselves distracted by other topics of conversation that they weren’t paying much attention to the film.

Rose didn’t mind, though. She enjoyed chatting with James and hearing his voice. After having spent most of the last forty-eight hours with him, it was a little jarring to be by herself again. Her flat felt too empty, and there was a tightness of longing deep in her chest. Pathetic though it was, she wanted to be with James.

It was a bit ridiculous, honestly. She wasn’t a lovesick teenager. She shouldn’t have a stomach ache because she missed her boyfriend. They were grown-ass adults, and it was healthy to spend time apart, for God’s sake.

The film eventually ended and the credits began rolling. Rose was half-asleep and knew James wasn’t faring much better; their conversation had grown sparse over the last half hour.

“I guess we should go to bed,” James murmured through a yawn.

“Yeah. I hope you sleep better tonight,” she said.

“Me too. When can I see you next? How often are you working?”

“My hours are pretty heavy this week,” she admitted. “I’m trying to take advantage of not needing to schedule my hours around my classes. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, then I work the same shift I did today and—”

“A doctor’s appointment? Are you all right? Are you ill?”

A violent blush heated her cheeks. He did not yet need to know that she was preemptively taking care of birth control.

“It’s a normal checkup,” she said, willing her voice to stay steady. It wasn’t technically a lie… “Nothing to be concerned about. But anyways, this week is sort of mad. We could meet up in the evenings, if you’d like. Or in the mornings. I’m sorry. My schedule came out well in advance of us—”

“No need to be sorry,” he said. “I will take any time with you that I can get.”

Her chest warmed. “Can I ask you something? Do you have a job?”

“Oh, er… sort of. I tutor. I’m a tutor. Not only at the university, but at a few of the local high schools. Mostly maths and science. It’s nothing official, just a few private sessions with maybe a dozen or so kids. I asked the parents if it was all right that I skipped last week, since I had finals to worry about. And this week is the kids’ last before their Christmas break, so most of them don’t have exams or anything they need me to help with. I don’t have any appointments ‘til after the new year.”

Rose tried to quash down the jealousy. She worked at a minimum wage job as often as she could, and that was barely enough to cover her rent, utilities, and groceries. Here he was with a job that he could blow off for weeks at a time and not worry about making ends meet. But as soon as the awful emotion welled up, it fizzled out, leaving shame in its wake. The only reason he was well off was due to the inheritance his parents had left him after their deaths. It was a horrible, terrible thing for her to be envious of.

And yet a tiny, little, miniscule part of her longed for the luxury of not needing to worry about money.

“D’you want to go out for breakfast the day after tomorrow?” he asked. “Maybe tomorrow night we can do another movie night? Like tonight? Or you could come over. I don’t mind. Or I could drop by your flat. Whatever you’d like.”

They agreed to meet up at Rose’s flat for a movie date the next evening. Already, Rose was simmering with excitement. She’d loved their film night at James’s house after they’d decorated his tree, and she was eager for another one. She could easily get used to regular date nights with him, cuddled up on the sofa, kissing each other softly. Nothing had progressed much regarding their physical relationship; they hadn’t even had a heavy make out session. Their snog in the dining hall of the university was as frisky as they’d gotten so far, and Rose was aching to go farther with him. Hopefully he wanted to go farther with her, too.

Rose dragged herself out of her cocoon of blankets to get ready for bed. She took her empty popcorn bowl to the sink, turned off all the lights in her flat, double checked that the front door was locked and the deadbolt secured, and went to the bathroom for her nightly routine.

Ten hurried minutes later, she crawled back into bed. The sheets were moderately warm and she nuzzled deeply into them. Checking her phone, a new series of texts from James awaited her. They were photographs of his cats laying with him in bed, with the message _The gang’s all here! Apart from Gollum, who’s as antisocial as ever._

Rose grinned at the photograph. James had his blankets pulled all the way up to his chin, and Pippin was curled above James’s shoulder while Merry was sprawled along the length of James’s side. She would have loved to have been given that same photograph without the blankets covering him.

“Awww. Give the boys my love.” She attached the kissing and cat heart eyes emojis.

_Even Gollum?_

“Even Gollum, if he’ll accept it.”

_Well, if he doesn’t, I know of someone else who will gladly take your love._

Rose bit her lip, still smiling stupidly at her phone screen. She knew exactly what he meant, but she couldn’t help but tease, “Two someones… divide it between Merry and Pippin.”

He sent back a photo of himself pouting at the camera. _I’m feeling very neglected here._

She laughed aloud. “Oh, all right. I guess you can have some love, too.”

_You’re very rude to me, Rose Tyler. It’s a wonder I put up with you._

_(I’m joking, btw.)_

_(Of course you know I’m not merely putting up with you.)_

_(I actually really really like you.)_

_(In fact, I really really love you.)_

That was enough to put another stupidly huge grin on her face.

“I really really love you, too,” she said. And before she could think too much about it, she added, “I wish I were there with you. It looks like I might have a bit of competition for bed space eventually.”

His answer came almost immediately. _I will physically lock them into a different room_.

“Aww, poor babies.”

_Poor babies?? Poor James! I want to snuggle with my girlfriend, not have a face full of cat arse._

She chuckled and sent the crying with laughter face back to him along with, “Can’t we do both?” She added the winking emoji.

Her chest ached at the thought of sharing a bed with James. Not even for sex—although she would very, _very_ much like to do that with him—but merely to sleep. To snuggle up beside him and have his face be the last thing she saw before she fell asleep at night, and be the first thing she saw again the next morning. She desperately wanted that intimacy with him.

_Right, I’m several minutes away from falling asleep on you. I’ve learned that I really ought to follow my body’s signals to go to sleep. Otherwise I’ll be up for hours and hours._

“Go to sleep James. We’ll talk later.”

_Righty-o. Nighty night, Rose. I love you._

“I love you, too,” she replied. “Sweet dreams, James.”

She sent him a final heart emoji, then placed her phone on her bedside table. She hoped he got more sleep tonight than he’d gotten last night, and that his mind settled and allowed him some peace.

Her heart broke for him. It wasn’t fair that he’d endured so much grief at such a young age. Thirteen. She couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents at thirteen. That was such an awful age for children in general, what with trying to deal with puberty and figuring out a personality and trying to fit in at school. And he’d had to try to cope with his trauma and grief at the same time. It wasn’t fair.

She hated that she would never meet his parents, the wonderful people who had created such a wonderful man. And she hated herself for the callous comment she had made the other day about not wanting to tell her mother about her new relationship with James, when he would give anything to be able to tell his parents about her.

Rose groaned and punched her pillow into a more comfortable position as she reached over and grabbed her phone. She hadn’t texted her mother in nearly a week, and even then, it was only to check in that she was safe and well. All of the conversation threads with her mother were short and impersonal, on both her side and her mother’s. She loved her mother, and knew she was loved in return, but it was so hard sometimes to talk with her mum without feeling judged. She wondered what her mother would have to say about James.

Even though it was the middle of the night in London, she began typing. “Hi Mum. Sorry if this text wakes you, but I figured I’d check in. The term is over, and I passed all my classes. Even chemistry.”

She sent that message, and began composing a new one. “Remember the person I told you I was studying with? His name is James. And we’ve started dating. I’ve fallen in love with him and I’m so happy. I’d like to introduce you to him at some point. Maybe we can all Skype soon? Anyways, I just wanted to tell you. I love you xo. G’night.”

She sent the message before she lost her nerve. Then she switched her phone to do-not-disturb mode, set it onto her bedside table, and rolled over to work on falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear from you all about what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> Next update: May 13th


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose have a date night together ;)
> 
> Chapter Length: ~6900
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit

_So where did you meet him?_

_Has he got a job?_

_What’s he at school for?_

_What’s he like?_

_What’s his name?_

_How old is he?_

_How long have you known him?_

_How long have you been dating?_

_What do you mean you love him?_

Rose awoke to a string of messages from her mother, questions that Rose had supplied some of the answers to in her texts the previous night. It was enough that she regretted telling her mum about James in the first place.

Scrubbing her hand over her sleepy face, Rose ignored her mother for now and instead opened up the new message from James.

_Morning! Gollum actually let me pet him. I think the world is ending._

Rose grinned into her pillow and hugged her blankets tighter to her chest. A quick glance at the time told her she had another twenty minutes before she absolutely had to get up and get ready for her appointment at the university health center.

“Photographic evidence? No pictures, no proof.”

Three dots appeared as James typed his response. Ten seconds later, a photograph came through. Rose saw James’s hand scratching Gollum’s chin. The cat’s eyes were wide open, but he was at least leaning into the touch.

_Ha! There’s your proof._

“The world is indeed ending then,” she replied. “Did you sleep better last night?”

_Oh yeah. Loads better._

_Conked out shortly after I finished texting you and didn’t wake up til Pippin meowed in my ear at 7:39._

_Quite loudly, I might add._

“Poor baby was starving,” she said.

_It’s a wonder he isn’t grossly overweight, as much as he eats._

_Then again, he regularly does sprints throughout the house, so I guess he burns it all off eventually._

_Are we still on for tonight? I can’t wait to see you._

“Yep! I can’t wait to see you too xoxo.”

The excitement of seeing James that night was what got Rose through an otherwise hectic day. Her appointment at the health center was short and mostly useless; the physician on call took a few basic measurements—height, weight, temperature, and blood pressure—and asked a few generic questions about her sex life—nonexistent, for now—before helping Rose schedule an appointment set a few days after Christmas at the nearby gynecologist. She didn’t think she and James would have progressed as far as proper sex in a week’s time, but in the event that they did… well, Rose had already seen that James stocked up on condoms.

After her appointment, Rose grabbed a breakfast bagel sandwich to go and headed to work. The grocery store was much busier today than it was yesterday, and Rose was barely keeping up. The manager on duty kept shuffling her around, from the registers, to stocking, to tallying inventory, and by the time she clocked out, she was thoroughly drained.

She was so exhausted when she exited the grocery store that she didn’t notice the dark figure jogging up behind her until a warm hand grabbed her elbow. Yelping, Rose yanked herself away from the touch and nearly thrust the heel of her hand into the stranger’s nose before she realized it was James.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, face heating. “I am so sorry.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, holding his hands out in front of himself to ward off her almost-attack. “I was calling for you.”

“Sorry,” she repeated. “Work was hell today. I’m so tired. I didn’t even hear you.” She blinked. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you by driving you home,” he said, rocking on his toes and then his heels. “You know, for our date tonight. But if you’re too tired, that’s completely fine. You look awful. I can drop you off and leave, let you go right to bed.”

In the frantic rush of her work shift, particularly the second half of it, she had managed to forget all about her date with James. All she had wanted to do was have a long soak in her bathtub. Though now that he reminded her, she absolutely did not want to be alone.

“No, no,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “I want to have our date. I might be lousy company, but we can have a good cuddle and watch a film, right?”

“Right,” he said with a toothy grin. “Let’s go, Rose Tyler!”

He tugged her to his waiting car, which was blessedly warm. Though she’d only been outside for a couple minutes, her cheeks and nose had already gone numb from the cold December night.

It wasn’t boding well for Rose that she nearly fell asleep on the drive home. Every time her eyes slipped shut, she wrenched them open; she was determined to spend a quiet evening with her boyfriend and knew that if she fell asleep, James would insist on leaving to let her get some rest.

When they made it to her flat, James asked again if she was sure she wanted company. After firmly telling him she did, she looped her arm through his and guided him up to her flat.

“I don’t have a TV,” she said apologetically, dumping her keys and purse onto the kitchen table, “so we’ll have to use my laptop. We can either pull my table closer to the couch and set it on there, or…” She bit her lip. “Or watch in my bed.”

James’s cheeks flushed pink. His mouth worked for a silent moment before he stammered, “I… Well… Whatever you prefer. Whatever is easiest. You’ve had a long day, after all. I want you to be comfy. Which would you prefer?”

“The bed,” she admitted, longing to change into pajamas and lie down in a nest of blankets. “If that’s all right?”

James bobbed his head in a nod.

Rose excused herself to freshen up and change into more comfortable clothes while James picked a movie and made popcorn. When she returned, he was mindlessly munching on the popcorn and scrolling through Netflix.

“Did you not save the login info?” he asked when she approached. He gestured to the laptop. “I had to log in again.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want to presume I could keep using it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I hereby give you permission to use my Netflix from this day henceforth. I saved the credentials to your computer. Access it whenever you’d like, Rose.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. With no cable, no television, and no streaming services, it was difficult to find ways to watch shows and movies. She’d been debating for months whether to get Netflix or Hulu or something. “I- I can split the monthly fee with you.”

“Rose, it’s like five dollars.” Before she could insist, he added, “I don't want you paying for it when you’re not using it. I use it damn near every night. Something to watch before bed. So how about this: the months that you use it, buy me a coffee or two, and we’ll call it even. Eh?”

Rose chewed on her lip, about to refuse and fork over the five dollars for this month’s usage.

 _Compromise,_ she reminded herself. _He’s compromising. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t charge me a thing. And of course he won’t want to charge me when I don’t use it. What difference does it make if I give him cash versus a few dollars’ worth of coffee?_

“Sounds fair,” she said, smiling.

He blinked, as though he couldn’t believe she’d given in so easily, then grinned. “Brilliant! So, I found a few options of what to watch. Let’s get set up, then we’ll decide.”

Ignoring the butterflies of bringing a boy into her bedroom, Rose led James down the hall. She’d quickly tidied up when she’d changed, but her room was messier than she wanted him to see. It didn’t help that it was a small room, so the sheer presence of her possessions made it appear cluttered.

“It’s a bit small,” Rose said apologetically.

“Nonsense!” he crowed, skipping up to her bed and plopping down. Rose wasn’t sure how he managed to keep his grip on the laptop and the popcorn bowl without spilling anything. “It just means we get to cuddle closer.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh. More restrainedly, Rose settled down beside him. They took a few minutes to rearrange pillows, blankets, and bodies until they were comfortable. James sat with his back propped against most of her pillows, the laptop resting on his thighs; Rose curled up beside him, her arm snaked around his back and the other wrapped around the bowl of popcorn at her belly while her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. He wrapped his arm snugly around her waist, fingers curved around her hip, anchoring her thoroughly to his side.

“I’m not sure how you feel about documentaries,” James said sheepishly, “but I love them. And there was this one on World War I I’ve been meaning to start. But if you don’t like them…”

“No, that sounds perfect,” Rose interrupted. She wasn’t technically lying; she had nothing against documentaries, but had seen too few of them to have an accurate opinion about them. Besides, she knew she was likely to fall asleep part way through, so she wanted James to be watching something he would enjoy.

She stayed awake long enough to help James polish off the popcorn. When it was empty, Rose placed the bowl on the floor beside her bed. Without the bowl in the way, she was able to fold herself even closer until she was nearly lying on top of him. He didn’t seem to mind though; he wrapped his arm more tightly around her. With his other hand, he began stroking her hair. That alone was enough to send her off into sleep.

It wasn’t a deep sleep—she remained conscious of James’s warm, solid body beside hers, of the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing—but it was deep enough that she had absolutely no idea what the documentary was about. A vague corner of her mind hoped James was enjoying it while she drifted in and out of awareness.

Sometime later, James pressed his lips to her forehead. Upon forcing open her eyes, she saw the end credits were rolling on the laptop screen.

“Good documentary?” she asked, nuzzling into his neck.

“Not bad,” he said. “The company was better.”

Rose groaned and hid her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so boring.”

“No, I was being genuine,” he said earnestly. His tone turned smug as he asked, “Did I make a good pillow?”

“The best,” she said, smiling.

Untucking her face from his neck, she peered up at him. All the air left her lungs when she realized how close his face had gotten. Her nose bumped against his lips, which parted in surprise. Her exhaustion evaporated in an instant as her entire focus shifted to James and the lips that were hovering mere centimeters above her own.

There was a firm _tug_ coming from somewhere behind her navel, and she wasn’t sure who had moved first, or if it was an accident, but suddenly his lips were on hers. He sighed against her mouth, the sound soft and needy, and it made her entire body go molten. She couldn’t get close enough, hold him tight enough, kiss him hard enough.

Something rectangular poked into her stomach quite uncomfortably, and she grunted in annoyance. She groped between them and found her laptop, which must have slid off his thighs when he angled his body towards hers.

She closed the lid of the computer, picked it up, and reached behind herself to set it onto her nightstand. This had to be the only time she appreciated having a small bed—she had gotten the laptop out of their way without needing to leave the warmth of James’s arms.

However, the momentary distraction seemed to have cleared James’s head a bit. When she went in for another kiss, he placed his fingertips over her lips.

“You’re tired,” he protested.

“Not anymore,” she mumbled around his fingers before giving them a quick nip.

He pulled his hand away, his pupils dilating as they zeroed in on her mouth, and that was all the opportunity Rose needed. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his face down to hers. Their lips met with a mutual sigh of satisfaction that liquified her insides at once.

She slung a leg over his hips, dragging him closer until their fronts were aligned and fused together. He let out a low groan that Rose felt more than heard. His hands soon began wandering, trailing up and down her back and ribs. She gasped when one of his hands ducked under her sweatshirt, skating across the expanse of her back and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

All the while, their lips and tongues glided together in a sensual dance. Their mouths performed a catch-and-release rhythm that was becoming so familiar the longer they kept at it. His tongue eventually probed her bottom lip, eliciting a gasp that he took full advantage of.

Shudders of pleasure rippled down her spine as his tongue slipped and teased its way around her mouth. With a final flick of the tip of his tongue against hers, he popped his mouth away from hers. Before she could protest, he kissed his way down her cheek and to the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear.

She probably should have been embarrassed by the moan she let out, but it felt too bloody good for her to be self-conscious. Every nerve ending was alight with pleasure, and she tried to get closer to him. There were too many clothes in the way, and she wanted to feel _him_ —his skin, his touch, his body—but the best she could do was slip her hands beneath his shirt. His back was warm and smooth, the muscles rippling beneath her hands.

Her nails bit into his skin when he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot, making her squirm and groan. His lips twitched into a smile against her neck, inordinately pleased with himself; Rose decided he had every right to be, as long as he kept kissing her like that.

She knew she was being selfish; every now and then, she realized her hands had stopped exploring him and were instead motionless, but it was difficult to keep her wits about her when James was so singularly focused on her. And with the small, contented grunts he let out every now and then, Rose thought he might be enjoying himself just as much as she was.

A throbbing, desperate heat took up residence between her thighs, and she tightened her core and her legs to try to alleviate the ache. She forgot, however, that one of her legs was slung over his hips, and when she clenched her thighs together, she brought herself into perfect contact with the front of his jeans. Something firm pressed behind his zipper, and when she rubbed against it, he let out a breathy whimper, his entire body going absolutely still.

“S-sorry,” he rasped, panting raggedly against the side of her neck. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, caressing her fingers up and down his spine. He shivered lightly. “It’s okay. I would’ve been worried if you weren’t… I’m glad to know you’re enjoying this.”

“I am very much enjoying this. More than I thought I would,” he admitted with a wry chuckle. “As you know, I’ve never done this with anyone. I- I’m glad everything’s, er, _working_ the way it should.”

“Did you worry it wouldn’t?” she teased, unable to resist slowly arching her hips up and into his.

He hissed and curled his fingers around her hip.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he answered. “It’s all very new. I’ve never, er, been aroused around someone else. I’ve, y’know, indulged in self pleasure, so I knew everything… _worked_. But doing it by myself versus with someone else are two totally different things.”

Rose took a minute to absorb this information. He had told her he’d been in relationships before, and though he’d never had sex, he had shared kisses. However, there was a very, very wide distance between kissing and sex. But if he’d never even been hard around a girl before…

“Hey James? Can I ask you something?” 

“‘Course.”

“Exactly how far have you gone with someone before?” she asked, cheeks burning. “Y’know, intimately? I know you haven’t had sex, but…”

He stilled, his body going tense. “Er… this, what we’ve been doing, is much farther than I’ve ever gone. I’ve shared kisses, and made out a few times. But it was all very… chaste. Never had anyone in my lap. Never shared a bed with anyone. I certainly never had anyone, er, _feel_ how worked up I was getting.”

As though to prove his point, he shifted slightly and Rose felt the hard press of him against her.

“Erm… can I ask why?” she asked. As soon as the words were out, she realized how personal of a question it was and hastened to backtrack. “You- you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious. I mean, you’re so sexy and gorgeous and I’m curious why none of your previous girlfriends ever wanted to shag your brains out.”

James barked out a laugh that comforted Rose; he clearly wasn’t offended by her question. He pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead, so different from the searing, toe-curling kisses he’d spent the last quarter of an hour giving her.

“Several reasons, I suppose. The biggest reason being that I was never in a relationship long enough for it to become physical. Beyond kissing, that is. The longest relationship I had with a girl was three months.” He paused and bit his lip. His body went rigid and he stared at a point behind her shoulder before he confessed, “And- and with a boy, two months.”

Rose blinked once. Twice. Still, James wasn’t looking at her. “You… you’ve been with a boy?”

James shrugged. “A couple. Didn’t last long.” His eyes finally flitted to her. His gaze was heartbreakingly vulnerable, and it made her chest constrict. “Is that… is that all right?”

Rose gave him a quick kiss, one that he automatically returned. “Of course. Sorry. Of course that’s all right. It took me by surprise, is all. Sorry.” A look of utter relief crossed his face, and Rose couldn’t help but kiss him again. “Right, so you were in the middle of telling me why all of your exes never wanted to shag your brains out?”

He chuckled, the rest of the tension in his body disappearing. “Well, several of my exes wanted to ‘shag my brains out’, as you put it. But I, er, didn’t feel the same. I never really wanted to make that last step. I enjoyed hanging out with my previous girlfriends and boyfriends, and I enjoyed snogging some of them, but… I dunno… I never had that spark of sexual attraction.” Scarlet bloomed across his cheeks. “I haven’t ever… er… felt that kind of attraction to someone.”

Something sank deep in the pit of Rose’s gut. She took a deep breath then asked, “Is what we’re doing too much? Do you not want…”

“No! I do! I want that very much.” He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I used to worry I was broken. Or different. A lot of my mates at school lost their virginity by the time we were sixteen. Nearly all of them had by the time we graduated. And I still hadn’t… I was too embarrassed to tell them, of course. And I was even more embarrassed to tell them I didn’t really _want_ to lose my virginity yet. So I deflected whenever they asked me about it. I’m sure some of them realized, though.

“But with you, Rose…” He loosed a breath and rubbed his hand up and down her back in a sensual, loving caress that left goosebumps in its wake. “I have never felt like this before. I finally understand what they meant. It’s like I can’t get close enough to you. I never want to stop touching you, or kissing you. And… and I can actually imagine having sex with you, Rose.”

His ears flamed bright red, and she couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “And have you? Imagined it?”

His throat bobbed for a silent minute, and his face turned impossibly redder as he nodded, a quick, sharp dip of his head. She beamed and, to wipe his embarrassment off his face, leaned over to whisper in his ear, “I’ve imagined it, too.”

He squeaked and his hand spasmed at her lower back. “You- you have?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Course. Been wanting to shag you for ages.”

To her surprise, he lowered his eyes and murmured, “Sorry. I- I know we’re going a bit slow…”

Cursing to herself, Rose removed her hand from where it had been making lazy lines along his spine and instead cradled his cheek in her palm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I am perfectly fine with going as fast or slow as you’re comfortable with, James. Just being able to snog you and cuddle with you and tell you how much I love you… That’s more than I ever thought possible.”

A broad, unrestrained smile lit up his face, and he ducked down to catch her lips in his. The heat between them had cooled, making it a kiss of comfort rather than desire, but regardless, it felt wonderful. The frantic throbbing between her legs had dimmed to a dull ache, and an inquisitive tilt of her hips confirmed he wasn’t nearly as worked up as he’d been five minutes ago.

He hummed and kissed her softly once, twice, three times before he gently began disentangling himself from her. Rose realized he was about to roll over, and thus roll off the bed.

“No, wait!” she cried, grabbing the front of his shirt.

He flinched and jumped, then squeaked and rolled over on top of her. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh before she began giggling madly. James was silent and unmoving for the span of several heartbeats, then he began laughing too.

“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot I was right on the edge of the mattress. Let’s try this again.”

Pulling his legs and hips away from hers, he sat up in bed, then gingerly stood. His crotch was at eye-level, and Rose tried very, very hard not to stare at the stiff protuberance at his zipper. She tightened her hands into her fists before she did something reckless like lower his zip and touch him like she wanted to.

Little shivers of renewed desire fluttered through her at the mental image her mind conjured up. It would be so, so easy for her to reach out and rest her hand on him, palming him through his jeans. She could already hear the throaty moan he would let out as she leisurely explored the length of him through the denim. From there, it would take no effort at all to undo the button and zip of his jeans, revealing him hard and straining against his boxer-briefs. She would tease him some more, stroking him so slowly through his pants before she would dip her hand beneath the waistband and finally, _finally_ wrap her fingers around… 

The illusion snapped when James, realizing the aroused state of himself, bent swiftly under the guise of grabbing the popcorn bowl. Rose blinked and willed her mind to get rid of those traitorous, lustful thoughts, lest she grab James ‘round the waist and tug him back into bed with her.

When James straightened, Rose noticed he’d readjusted himself in his trousers into a less conspicuous position. She, too, stood up off the bed. Now that she wasn’t busy snogging her boyfriend, Rose realized her laptop was barely balanced on the edge of her nightstand. It was a miracle it hadn’t gone clattering to the ground. She picked it up then guided James out of her bedroom.

He set the empty bowl in the sink, then sat down on her sofa to lace up his trainers.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, standing when he’d finished.

“So did I.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.” He bent down and caught her lips head-on in a proper goodbye kiss.

When she closed the door behind him, Rose went to her front window to watch him leave. Half a minute later, she saw him step into the cold night air and climb into his car. Her heart dropped as she watched his tail lights disappear down the dark street. She wished he didn’t have to go.

Sighing, Rose spun away from the window and began locking up. She flicked the lights off and got ready for bed. Her bed still smelled like James, and she burrowed her nose as deeply into her pillow as she could without suffocating herself. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was wrapped around him. It had been so nice to cuddle into his side while lying in bed. And then the kissing…

Heat flared up inside her as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers, on her neck. The feel of his fingers mapping out the planes of her spine, drumming up and down her ribs. The feel of his hips cradled in her own, of him hard and wanting against every aching part of her.

“Goddammit,” she hissed as her core clenched and throbbed in renewed desire.

She wished they could have continued; she’d been as turned on as he was. If only they’d stopped talking and kept kissing… But she knew their conversation had been necessary. They needed to be on the same page. She needed to know how far he was comfortable with going, and she was sure frantically dry humping each other into oblivion was too much too soon for him. As much as she yearned to make love with him, she wasn’t going to rush him into anything.

But that didn’t mean she had to remain in this state of frustration.

Trying not to feel guilty about it, Rose conjured up the memory of James’s body rocking with hers as she dipped her hand into the front of her knickers. She thought of the involuntary moan he let out when she pressed against his erection, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he would sound like when he entered her, when he came inside her. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she growled, her fingers working faster.

She was already so worked up that it took an embarrassingly short time for her to find her release, timing it perfectly with the James in her head who grunted wordlessly in her ear as he, too, climaxed. Her body trembled with pleasure as her hips arched into her own touch, wishing desperately that it was James she was clenching around instead.

Heart pounding and brain filled with fuzz, Rose slumped bonelessly into her mattress. James’s scent wafted around her, but this time it filled her with sorrow and longing. Usually a good wank put her in a great mood. This time, though, lying alone in the afterglow, a crippling sense of loneliness overtook her as her body thrummed with hormones meant to bond her with the person who had wrung such pleasure from her. 

“Fuck,” she whispered into the dark, tucking her face into the pillow James had used all evening.

Hurriedly wiping her fingers clean, Rose reached for her phone. Not caring if it made her clingy or pathetic, she opened up her messages with James and said, “I miss you xoxo.”

He didn’t respond right away, probably still driving home. Rose nestled deeper into her blankets, her body heavy and boneless from her orgasm. She was almost asleep when her phone buzzed in her hand.

Resurfacing to consciousness, she opened James’s messages.

_I miss you too._

_I had a fantastic time with you tonight._

Rose smirked at her phone. “It was a good documentary then?”

_Haha._

_As good as the documentary was, what we did afterwards was even better._

The little dots that indicated he was typing appeared and disappeared half a dozen times.

_I would love to do that again with you. Though without my moment of panic jolting us out of the moment._

“That can be arranged.” She added the winking emoji. “Though seriously. If we ever do something that’s too much, let me know. No questions, no embarrassment.”

_Thanks. I will._

_You too, btw. Don’t be afraid to tell me you want to stop, or if I do something you don’t like_.

“It’s a deal.” Rose couldn’t stop grinning at her phone. The heaviness in her chest floated away, leaving her in a much better mood than she’d been in five minutes ago.

The exhaustion of the day caught up with her, and coupled with the drowsiness of finding physical release, Rose knew she would be asleep in minutes. Not wanting to go dark on James without warning, she typed, “I’m about to fall asleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you.”

With that, she switched her phone to ‘do not disturb’ mode and set it on her nightstand. She hugged her blankets closer and let the fading scent of James lull her to sleep.

oOoOo

Across town, James unlocked his front door and stepped into his dimly-lit house. His cats all greeted him at the door, even Gollum, who glared balefully up at him before stalking to his cat tree. He gave his other two cats some affection before he flicked all the lights off and started getting ready for bed.

His evening with Rose had been perfect. Utterly perfect. He’d felt guilty for having their date even though it was clear she was dead on her feet. But she’d insisted and, well, he had a difficult time saying no to her. Besides, what was the harm in letting her doze off while he watched a World War I documentary? He had thoroughly enjoyed being able to hold her for an uninterrupted hour and a half. And then the kissing… 

His cock gave an interested throb, as it had been doing the entirety of the drive home. Whenever his mind even remotely wandered to Rose, his pesky body reminded him just how much he wanted her. These feelings were so new though, and so intense; he had never, ever felt this way about anyone. Even as a teenager, when it seemed that a stiff breeze would get him hard, he had never had the desire to find sexual release with another person. His own hurried hand in the loo or in bed had been enough to satisfy him.

But with Rose… God, he was embarrassed to admit how close he’d been to making a mess of his pants when they’d barely done anything at all. There had been a reason he tried to keep the attention on her, after all.

He was practically in a constant state of semi-arousal around her, and it was terrifying. Never before had he felt so out of control, like his body wasn’t entirely his own.

It had been amazing, though, to kiss her and entangle his body in hers. The memory of her mouth on his and his tongue on her skin was more than enough to make him hard again, and unless he wanted to wake up with sticky pants, he knew he ought to take care of himself.

He trekked down the hall and to his bedroom, his cock stiffening further with every step. Merry and Pippin followed along happily, jumping into bed to wait for him while he disappeared into the loo.

His cheeks heated with embarrassment and a touch of guilt as he carefully worked his jeans and pants over his erection. It was all too easy to recall Rose to memory, recall the feel of her legs wrapped around his hips, her hands across his back, her nails across his scalp. He had been more aroused than he’d ever been before, all without her even properly touching him.

The rocking of her hips against his had been delicious. Even now, his stomach coiled as he remembered her thigh slung over his hip, her ankle hooked behind his knee to hold him where he was. As if he would ever want to move.

But he had moved. His stupid gob had _apologized_ , in the middle of snogging. Why had he done that? Why had he been embarrassed by his body’s response to the woman he loved? He had told Rose he wanted everything with her, and she, in turn, had assured him she wanted everything with him too. She’d made it perfectly clear that she wanted to make love with him, so why had he wrenched them out of their amorous moment?

Sure, he probably would have completely ruined his pants had they continued snogging, but James was fairly confident Rose wouldn’t have made fun of him for it. Well, not cruelly, at least. She loved teasing him, and he loved it just as much. The banter they shared was so much fun, and he knew Rose would never actually hurt him with her words. Just like he would never hurt her. He loved her too much to ever say a word to her in anger.

But he was getting sidetracked.

Returning his focus to Rose and how it had felt to kiss her and touch her, James moved his hand more quickly, more purposefully, along his cock. A swelling tingle had already taken up residence at the base of his spine; it wouldn’t take much longer.

So he allowed himself to get lost in his fantasy. What would have happened if, after they’d finished speaking, he had settled himself atop her rather than scramble out of bed? He would have pressed himself between her hips, rolling into her and hoping it felt as good to her as it did to him.

He would have kissed her again and again, exploring more of that sensitive spot below her ear. She had shivered so delightfully when he’d scraped his teeth over it, and he couldn’t wait to find every place on her beautiful body that made her feel good. He wanted to hear all of the different sounds she could make, from the gentle hum of pleasure to the throaty moan that had nearly made him come on the spot a few times that night.

Merely remembering the sound was enough to do him in.

The pressure in his gut squeezed, and James panted for breath as his hand stroked himself harder and faster, searching frantically for his release. He thought of Rose. How she had arched her neck to let him explore. How she’d held him with her entire body. How she had breathed his name…

“ _Fuck_ ,” he rasped, arching his hips as his climax shattered through him.

His body trembled with the aftershocks, his knees weakening so much that he leaned against the wall to keep his balance. His pulse thudded in his ears, his vision a bit spotted. After a minute, though, he returned to his senses and hurriedly cleaned himself up.

His cats were waiting for him when he exited his en suite. They dutifully shifted to the end of the bed so James could crawl beneath the sheets. When he was settled, Pippin nestled down in the crook of his neck and shoulder, while Merry lounged at his hip.

The lingering endorphins of his orgasm made him delightfully drowsy. But before he dropped off to sleep, he ought to let Rose know he made it home safely.

A message from Rose was already waiting for him. _I miss you xoxo._

Smiling, he replied, “I miss you too.” After sending that one, he said, “I had a fantastic time with you tonight.”

She responded almost immediately. _It was a good documentary then?_

James snorted. He could practically hear the drawl in her voice and see the tongue-tongued smirk. “Haha.”

“As good as the documentary was, what we did afterwards was even better.”

James sent that message, then began composing a new one. “Kissing you, Rose, was…”

What was it? Brilliant? Amazing? Incredible? Pleasurable? Beyond his wildest dreams? It was all those things and more. It was like no word was strong enough, descriptive enough, so he scrapped that sentence and tried again.

“I loved making out with you…” _Delete._ What was he, a fourteen-year-old boy?

“Can we snog again…” _Delete._ Jesus Christ.

“I would love to do that again with you,” he finally typed. He then added, “Though without my moment of panic jolting us out of the moment.”

He still couldn’t entirely believe he’d fled from her like he’d done. Oh God, had he offended her? Had he made her think he hated making out with her? That thought stopped him cold and made him suddenly nauseated. Before he could apologize and assure her that she hadn’t done anything wrong, she messaged him.

 _That can be arranged._ Wink.

Well, if she were winking at him, she couldn’t be too upset, could she?

_Though seriously. If we ever do something that’s too much, let me know. No questions, no embarrassment._

He blew out a shaky breath. Bless Rose and her patience and her kindness. However, he wasn’t sure why he was requiring her to be patient.

He was well aware that he was the one holding them back from a proper physical relationship, and it was getting more difficult to understand why he wanted to take it slow. He’d been falling in love with her for months, and was more comfortable with her than anyone else in the world. He knew deep in his bones that she was the one for him. She was the one he wanted to grow old with. So why was he denying them the physical pleasure of their love?

Groaning, James dug the heels of his hands into his eyes before he replied to her.

“Thanks. I will.”

Wait. A physical relationship took two people. The pace couldn’t be set by him alone.

“You too, btw. Don’t be afraid to tell me you want to stop, or if I do something you don’t like.”

He didn’t bother confessing to her that he was nervous that he would be a rubbish lover. He could admit that to her later. Though hopefully he wouldn’t need to. Hopefully he would be a fantastic lover. He knew the basics, after all, and he’d read books containing sex scenes—not those ridiculous ones that the internet made fun of—so he was fairly certain he understood the mechanics of the act.

He took comfort in the fact that Rose seemed to thoroughly enjoy what they’d done together that night.

His phone buzzed twice in quick succession.

_It’s a deal._

_I’m about to fall asleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you._

His heart sank. He wasn’t ready to say goodnight to her yet. But she’d had a long day; she needed to get a solid bit of sleep. So he forced aside his loneliness and said, “Love you too. Goodnight Rose. Sweet dreams.”

He waited for a few minutes, but Rose never responded. She probably already fell asleep. Sighing, James reached over Pippin and set his phone on his bedside table. The cat chirped upon being disturbed, but continued snoozing.

“You’re gonna need to find a new sleeping spot soon,” James murmured to his cat, stroking Pippin’s soft head. “When Rose eventually joins me in bed. Which I hope is soon.”

Despite his nerves with furthering their physical relationship, James wanted nothing more than to further all other aspects of their relationship. Though he knew it was probably far too soon, he wished Rose could move in with him.

He wondered when it would be appropriate for them to discuss future living arrangements. Rose’s last experience of cohabitating with her boyfriend had not worked out, and he worried she might be gun shy with him. She’d already admitted that Jimmy had left a sour taste in her mouth regarding so many relationship-y things.

Of course, he didn't hold any of it against her, and never would, but he was absolutely furious with Jimmy Stone for causing Rose to question and second guess everything. For causing Rose to doubt her worth of being loved wholly and completely for who she was, as she was.

Time, James hoped, would help show Rose that he was perfectly serious about wanting to spend forever with her. He liked the idea of time, especially time with Rose. They’d known each other for just a few months, and he was completely head over heels in love with her; he couldn’t wait to see how much deeper those feelings could go.

Unbidden, his future with Rose played through his mind. The specific details were a bit murky, but he knew with absolute certainty that there was no version of his future that didn’t contain Rose. Maybe they’d get married… maybe they’d have a whole houseful of kids… maybe, maybe, maybe…

With all of those hopeful scenes of possibility, James slipped into a deep and comfortable sleep, his mind full of Rose and their forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick comments on James's sexuality: he's bisexual and on the ace spectrum, namely demisexual, meaning he really only begins to feel sexual desire after a deep and emotional connection has been formed (which he has).
> 
> I would love to hear from you all about what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> Next update: May 27th


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose celebrate Christmas Eve/James's birthday.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~6900
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit (for real this time) ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all are getting this chapter a day early since today (May 26) is my birthday! It’s my birthday treat to all of you. Thanks for supporting me and this story.

Rose had forgotten all about her mother’s questions regarding her new relationship with James until her mum sent her a slew of annoyed, ranting messages. Pushing down her rankled nerves, Rose got back into her mother’s good graces when she explained how many hours she had been working that week, and that time had simply gotten away from her, especially when time zones were taken into account.

Her mother had asked for every little detail about James, and though Rose did her best to be open and honest, a tiny voice in the corner of her mind didn’t want her mother knowing too much about her boyfriend yet. It was still so new that Rose wanted to keep James to herself for a little while longer.

Their conversation spanned several days, thanks to their work schedules and time zones, but eventually Rose spilled most of the details about meeting and falling in love with James. She also sent her mother a few of the selfies she and James had taken over the months.

_Hmmm, I can see why he caught your eye. He’s a looker, ain’t he?_

Rose didn’t deign to respond, but didn’t need to, as her mother had barreled on with, _When was that picture in front of the castle taken?_

“It’s not a castle, it was an old prison. Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia. The university sponsored a bus trip to the city, so James and I both went. Must have been mid-October?”

_You said you didn’t start dating ‘til a few days ago._

Logically she knew tone couldn’t be conveyed through text message, but Rose’s hackles were raised anyway at her mother’s accusatory words. “We didn’t. We were mates for a while first.”

_Mates eh? Sure, love._

Rose nearly sent a message that was sure to get her into trouble, but she refrained. Because she knew exactly what her mother was seeing. Hell, how many hours had Rose stared at that particular selfie so she could paint it for her final project. She knew exactly how closely she and James were standing. How his hand was anchored at her waist, his fingers curved along her hip. How her own arm was wrapped around his ribs. How her cheek was pressed to his chest and his chin was on top of her head and how their smiles took up their entire face. She knew exactly how couple-ish they appeared in that photo.

_Is he treating you well, sweetheart? Does he make you happy?_

Rose started; she’d expected her mother to continue harping. She was so surprised that she immediately answered honestly. “Yes. He treats me better than anyone has before. And he makes me so happy. I love being with him, Mum. I love him.”

_Just make sure you’re being safe. You don’t want any little accidents in nine months…_

Rose groaned. She knew that her mother knew she wasn’t a virgin; but there was a distinct difference between her mother quietly being aware of that fact versus blatantly speaking about Rose’s sex life. The sex life that technically was still dormant.

But no matter. Rose had an appointment coming up after Christmas to get an IUD inserted, meaning she and James would be in the clear for at least five years.

“It’s taken care of,” was all Rose told her mother.

Thankfully—surprisingly—her mum didn’t push, and soon enough, the topic of James fizzled out in favor of local gossip around the estate back home.

oOoOo

The next several days passed quickly. Rose was pulling more hours at work than usual, so she often came home exhausted. Though she and James didn’t have any more in-person movie date nights—a pity, in her opinion—they often met up for brunch before she had to go to work. While she wished she could see him more often, Rose was happy to take any time with James that she could get.

But finally, it was Christmas. More specifically, Christmas Eve. James had invited her to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at his house, offering to let her sleep over for one or both of those nights.

_Sleeping arrangements will be a bit tricky, since my aunt is here ‘til the 27th._

_But my couch has a pull-out mattress. I can take that and you can have my bed._

“I’ll be fine on the couch,” Rose insisted.

_We’ll discuss later._

Rose worked the morning shift on Christmas Eve, but by the time she clocked out at noon, she was eager to spend the holidays with her boyfriend.

James was waiting for her when she walked out of the supermarket. He beamed when he saw her, and she couldn’t help her responding smile. She felt as though she hadn’t seen him in ages despite having had breakfast with him the previous morning.

He opened his arms for a hug, one that she eagerly jumped into. He hauled her off her feet and rocked her to and fro, giggling in her ear. Evidently he missed her as much as she missed him.

“Hello,” he said breathlessly when he set her on her feet. His eyes skated around her face, and his mouth opened then closed, as though he wanted to say something. Eventually, he asked, “Have a good shift?

“Not too bad,” she replied, then she rocked up onto her toes to kiss him soundly.

Well aware that they were in the car park of the busy grocery store, Rose disengaged from the kiss after a few heated seconds. Though the dark, desperate look in his eyes nearly made her chuck propriety out the window and snog him bodily against the side of his car.

James drove Rose to her flat so she could collect her overnight bag and the small stack of gifts she had gotten for him and his aunt.

“You didn’t need to get her anything,” James said when he saw the top gift was addressed to his aunt.

Rose shrugged. “It’s just a little something I saw and thought she might like.”

James pursed his lips at her, but didn’t argue further. He slung her overnight bag over his shoulder, then extended his hand for the tote bag of presents.

“You either get to carry the gifts, or the bag. Not both,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m being chivalrous,” he sniffed, gesturing for the gifts once more.

“No, you’re showin’ off.” She bumped her hip against his and shouldered the tote bag, ushering him out of her flat.

James chatted animatedly as he drove, seemingly in great spirits. While his good moods were usually infectious, Rose’s pulse raced the closer they got to his house. She was about to meet his _aunt_ , the woman who’d helped raise him.

“She’s gonna love you,” James said quietly, catching on to the reason behind her silence.

As it turned out, Rose didn’t need to be nervous yet: his aunt wasn’t there when James arrived at his home.

“Must’ve popped out for last minute groceries,” he mused.

They entered the house, greeted by the chirping of two of James’s cats. Rose dutifully bent down to give Merry and Pippin some love before she walked into James’s living room. The Christmas tree they’d decorated the weekend before was lit and several gifts were scattered beneath it. Several with her name caught Rose’s eye as she knelt to put the gifts she’d brought beneath the tree.

“Are you hungry?” James asked. “Thirsty?”

“I could eat,” she admitted.

James unceremoniously dropped her overnight bag in the corner of the living room then gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen. 

They worked around each other seamlessly as they made lunch, chatting about nothing in particular. When Rose went to the fridge for something to drink, she stopped short when she saw what was taking up the entire bottom shelf. She was glad she hadn’t yet picked up the filtered water pitcher, because she most certainly would have dropped it when she beheld a cake. A _birthday_ cake. A birthday cake that read _Happy 23rd Birthday James!_

The cake hadn’t been opened yet, and from the tiny receipt on the plastic cover, Rose saw that it had been picked up that morning, which meant… 

“It’s your birthday?!”

James’s eyes went wide and his mouth moved wordlessly, before he ducked his head and nodded.

“How could you not tell me?”

Now that she thought about it, she remembered him telling her when they first met that his birthday was in December. But he hadn’t specified when in December, and she hadn’t asked. She hadn’t remembered that fact until just now, and it made her feel like the worst girlfriend on the planet.

“Hey.” He’d stepped up to her and knocked his knuckles gently beneath her chin. “Don’t be upset. Please. I’m sorry.”

“How could you not tell me?” she repeated, crestfallen. “It’s your _birthday_.” She enveloped him in a tight hug. “Happy Birthday, James.”

“Thanks,” he said, returning the hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It, er, it didn’t seem all that important.”

Rose frowned up at him. “Not important? James, it’s the day you came into existence. And since I’m sort of in love with you, I am very happy about the fact that you exist.” His cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink. “Besides, how were you planning to keep it a secret? Don’t you think the huge birthday cake in the fridge would’ve given it away?”

He pulled away from her, his brows furrowed. “Birthday cake?”

He stepped past her and wrenched open the fridge. “Oh. Sarah. She must’ve ordered a cake. Honestly, Rose, that wasn’t in there when I left.”

“If I hadn’t spied that cake, would you even have told me it was your birthday?” she asked.

“Yeeeeeah,” he said slowly, as if he wasn’t entirely sure he would have. “Maybe. Eventually. I’ve been trying to figure out all morning how to tell you, actually. Obviously without blurting out ‘oh, hey, guess what? It’s my birthday!’ Because, well, that seemed so… awkward. But I couldn’t think of how to tell you, so then I’ve been debating how upset you would be with me if I didn’t tell you today but then dropped that bomb sometime in the future.”

Rose snorted. “Be glad you didn’t do that, mister. I would’ve been absolutely furious with you for that.”

James planted a kiss to her forehead. “So, er, while we’re on the topic of birthdays. When’s yours? April, right? You’ll be twenty-two?”

Rose grinned at him and pecked a kiss to his lips. “If you’ve kept me in the dark about your birthday, I’ll keep you in the dark about mine. I’ll spring it on you the day of.”

He pouted and whined hideously. “Ro-oooose!”

“Ja-aaaames,” she sang.

“That’s not fair,” he grumbled.

“Serves you right,” she said, poking him in the chest.

His pout deepened, showcasing his full bottom lip until Rose couldn’t keep herself from lifting up onto her toes to kiss him, taking his bottom lip between hers. He hummed into the kiss and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

Before the kiss could go much farther, they were jolted apart by the front door swinging open. It was as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Rose. Her nerves arose, front and center. She wasn’t aware that she’d begun chewing on her thumb cuticle until James took her hand away from her mouth.

“Relax,” he murmured into her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“James, when are you off to fetch Rose?”

“Already fetched her,” he called out. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Rose heard the rustling of bags that preceded a short, brown-haired middle-aged woman. Her hazel eyes widened as they landed on Rose.

“Er… hi,” Rose said, wiggling her fingers in a little wave.

James’s aunt broke into a broad smile. “You must be Rose. James has told me all about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Rose croaked, cringing at how feeble her voice sounded.

“Can we help you with anything?” James asked, squeezing Rose’s hand before dropping it.

The usual awkwardness of meeting someone new settled over the house, but James was fantastic at dispelling it whenever it grew too thick. He was charming, as always, and he teased his aunt and Rose to lighten the mood. They teased him in turn, swapping stories about him and beaming at each other whenever he groaned in embarrassment.

“The first time I met up with him to study, he damn near brought along his entire kitchen,” Rose said, knocking her elbow into his side as they all sat down for dinner. “He had snacks and drinks and an entire electric kettle! He was completely barmy!”

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he pouted.

“You have to admit, it was a bit weird.”

James rolled his eyes. “I’m glad to know my first attempt at wooing you was such a smashing success.”

That brought Rose up short. “Wait… your _what_?”

He cocked his head to the side and gazed down at her. “Rose, I had a massive crush on you right from the start. Why else would I have waited for you outside the loo after we got our first exam back?”

“Uhm…” Rose was at a loss for words.

“I’d been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for a month,” he said, his cheeks going a bit scarlet. “And when I saw you run into the loo looking so upset, I couldn’t help but wait for you, to see if there was anything I could do to make you feel better.”

“But… you said you didn’t fall in love with me ‘til much later,” Rose mumbled.

James shook his head at her in affectionate exasperation. “It wasn’t love at first sight, because in my opinion, that’s a bit of a silly notion. However, it was _attraction_ at first sight. Intrigue at first sight. I had a crush on the _idea_ of you at first, then you became my friend and I had a crush on _you_ , and then I fell absolutely head over heels in love with you. And still am.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little silly.

She had an intense urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him in for a kiss, but his aunt was sitting right across from them. A part of her brain wanted to say ‘ _sod it_ ’, and she nearly snogged him anyway.

Managing to reign in her hormones, Rose reached over and threaded their fingers together. He beamed at her, and this time, she couldn’t help it. She leaned up and pressed a short, gentle kiss to his lips. Sarah Jane, bless her, had her attention on her plate and was focusing intently on stabbing her fork through her lasagna. 

“As barmy as I thought you were,” Rose said in an undertone, “you were utterly endearing.”

He giggled from high in his throat and squeezed her fingers.

After dinner, they broke into James’s birthday cake. Rose helped Sarah Jane stick twenty-three candles into the cake, then they lit them and dimmed the lights. Rose took her phone out to snap photos and videos of James as she and Sarah Jane sang ‘Happy Birthday’. He was grinning and bouncing in his chair like a little kid.

“Make a wish,” Rose murmured after they’d finished singing.

He looked up at her with an impossibly soft, impossibly wide smile, then he closed his eyes for a beat, and extinguished his candles all in one breath, though his exhale was more of a wheeze by the time the last candle flickered out.

Rose dutifully cheered, then ducked down for a kiss. “Birthday boy gets a birthday kiss.”

“And if the birthday boy wants more than a birthday kiss?” he asked with a roguish wink.

She pinched him lightly, then helped Sarah Jane scoop cake and ice cream into three bowls.

“Was it terrible having your birthday on Christmas Eve as a kid?” Rose asked. Across from her, Sarah Jane froze. “Did it always get overshadowed by the holidays?”

“Sort of,” James said, licking a smear of icing off of his spoon. “My mum and dad tried really hard to make sure it got celebrated properly though. I always had a birthday party on the last day of classes before winter break. I was allowed to invite over a few friends to spend the night, then the next day, we’d go laser tagging and have a party with junk food and cake.

“And on my actual birthday, Mum and Dad let me do whatever I wanted. Within reason, of course. They would make a big fancy breakfast, then we’d spend the entire day together, playing games and watching films and whatnot. Then at night, we would drive around the neighborhood to look at everyone’s Christmas lights and decorations before Mum and I would go to Christmas Eve Mass. Then we’d come home, eat the milk and biscuits I left out for “Santa”, and I’d go to bed.”

“That sounds like a wonderful way to spend a birthday,” Rose whispered, her throat swelling shut.

He smiled wistfully. “It was.”

Sarah Jane was watching them carefully, intense to the point where Rose was a bit self-conscious. James didn’t seem to notice, so perhaps Rose was misreading the expression. She did her best to ignore it while she polished off her dessert, then collected the bowls and began loading them into the dishwasher.

“You know,” Sarah Jane said, sidling up to help with the dishes, “that is the first time I’ve heard James talk about his parents like that. For a while, he was deeply angry and resentful, and then he absolutely refused to acknowledge them.”

“It must have been very traumatic, losing them both so suddenly like that,” Rose said carefully. “Especially at that age.”

“So he’s told you about his parents? How they died?”

Rose furrowed her brows. “Of course.”

Sarah Jane chuckled humorlessly to herself. “You’d be the first.” She glanced over her shoulder, where James was wiping down the table. “I’m really happy he has you, Rose. You’re good for him.”

Rose let her gaze wander to James. Sensing her attention, he gave her a dazzling smile when he caught her eye. She automatically returned it before she continued loading the dishwasher.

“He’s really good for me, too,” she said quietly.

Sarah Jane rested her hand on Rose’s forearm and gave it a squeeze, then they finished the dishes in silence.

After that, Sarah Jane announced that she was turning in for the night, despite it barely being eight o’clock. Rose couldn’t blame her though. She had driven all the way from Michigan the day before; she was surely still exhausted from travelling. Plus, it meant Rose had James to herself for the rest of the night.

“Of course,” James said. “Get some rest. See you in the morning.”

He planted a dutiful kiss to her cheek before she ventured down the hall to the guest bedroom. James turned to Rose and asked, “Will you help me make up the sofa bed? I’d rather do it now. It’s a bit loud and I don’t want to wake Sarah later in the night.”

Together, they went to the closet and pulled out a pile of sheets, blankets, and pillows. They then went to his loveseat sofa, removed the cushions, and pulled out the full-size mattress. Well, James pulled it out. Rose wasn’t sure what he’d needed her help with in the first place.

“Honestly, Rose, I don’t mind taking the couch,” James argued as Rose draped the mattress cover and sheets across the bed.

“Nope,” Rose said firmly. There was no way his tall body could comfortably fit on that mattress. “I won’t kick you out of your bed. This is perfect for me.”

“I feel like a rubbish host,” he whined.

“And I would feel like a rubbish girlfriend, taking up your bed and knowing you’re sleeping on this little thing. Your feet would be hanging off the edge.” James shrugged, and Rose rolled her eyes. “No, I’m taking the couch, and that’s that. Consider it your punishment for not telling me about your birthday.”

James pulled a face. “I thought my punishment was you not telling me when _your_ birthday is.”

“They’re both your punishment,” Rose said sweetly.

With a sigh, he acquiesced. He smoothed out the blankets and dropped the pillows onto the bed, then plopped onto the mattress. It squeaked and creaked as he bounced. Rose dropped down onto the bed beside him, testing it out. It would suit her just fine for the night.

“Want to watch one final Christmas film before bed?” James asked, settling against the pillows before she’d even agreed.

As if she would say no. But first…

“I’m gonna change into jammies,” Rose said. “Much comfier than jeans.”

“Ooh, good idea,” he said, vaulting off the bed. “Meet you back here in five.”

Rose rooted though her overnight bag until she found her pajamas—a simple ensemble of shorts and a t-shirt—and her toiletry bag. She padded down the hall until she reached the guest bathroom. Sarah Jane’s toiletries were sitting in neat little stacks on one corner of the vanity countertop. 

She made quick work of washing her face and brushing her teeth, then changing into her pajamas. She debated for a very long while on whether or not to keep her bra on, but eventually decided against it. However, she tugged on a sweatshirt to help hide the fact that she’d taken off her bra.

When she returned to the living room, James was already sprawled on the mattress underneath the blankets, his back propped against several additional pillows to the ones they’d retrieved from the closet. He must have grabbed them from his bed. 

He looked over when she walked in. His eyes traveled up and down her body, lingering on her legs, enraptured. She realized with a small jolt that this was the first time he’d seen her bare legs.

“What are we watching?” she asked, dropping her balled-up clothes into her bag before crawling into the bed beside him.

He opened his arm for her, letting her snuggle into him as he gestured with the remote to the television. “Hallmark Christmas films. If that’s all right. It’s something mindless.”

“Sounds good,” Rose said, tucking her face into his shoulder.

“Want to take bets on the plot?” James asked, nuzzling his cheek into her hair. “I’m going with ‘successful woman gets called to her dinky hometown for a funeral, where she meets a small-town man who teaches her that love is more important than a career’.”

Rose snorted. “Not taking that bet. But I’ll tack on that said small-town hunk has a child, who melts the woman’s heart and reveals that what she has longed for all along is love and a family.”

James giggled and wrapped his arm tighter around her waist.

They had nearly gotten the plot correct, except for the gender. A successful business man was called home where he met a single mother who taught him the magic of Christmas and love.

“So close,” James murmured as the end credits rolled. He shifted slightly beside her, then asked, “It’s only nine-thirty… are you ready for bed, or would you like to watch another?”

Reluctant to leave the intimacy of James’s embrace, Rose readily settled in for the next Hallmark film, one that appeared to follow a ‘rivals to lovers’ storyline. She appreciated the simplicity of these Christmas films; she didn’t have to concentrate much to follow the plot, which let her focus on the feel of James beside her. They were positioned similarly to how they’d been several evenings prior, when they’d lain together in her bed, watching Netflix which had turned into one of the best make out sessions Rose had ever had. And that was saying quite a lot… 

She couldn’t help the stirrings of desire, no matter how hard she tried to quash them. It was doubly hard when James would drop random kisses to the top of her head, then to her temple, then to her cheek.

Therefore, it was only fair that she reciprocated with kisses of her own.

Under the guise of switching positions to cuddle closer, Rose lifted herself higher up the mattress until she could kiss the column of his throat. He hummed at the first touch of her lips against his skin. Emboldened by his response, she wrapped her arm around his waist for balance and stretched further to kiss the underside of his jaw.

His hand clenched into the side of her sweatshirt, then released it the next second.

“Wait,” he whispered, and he dropped his arm from around her.

 _Oh no._ Had she misinterpreted the situation? Cheeks burning, Rose turned away from him to watch the rest of the film, simmering in embarrassment.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean I want to stop,” he clarified.

She peeked up at him and saw he was wiggling closer to her height, becoming more horizontal rather than sitting upright against the pillows.

“I’m too tall for this,” he muttered before he cradled the nape of her neck in his palm and brought his lips down on hers for a searing kiss.

Rose gasped against his mouth and felt him grin. His lips pushed and pulled at hers, sending all sorts of delicious sparks down her spine.

“Been wanting to do this for an hour now,” he mumbled between kisses. “But I wanted to give my aunt plenty of time to fall asleep.” His fingers grabbed at her, clawing at her sweatshirt in an attempt to hold her closer. “God, I’ve missed you. Seems like we haven’t had much time together recently.”

“S-sorry,” she said. The next time her boss asked for her schedule, she would make sure to leave a bit more time for James. Hopefully she could take early shifts, leaving more of her evenings free.

“Not your fault,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed our brunch dates. But I’ve missed kissing you like this. Can’t exactly do that in a diner.”

“Well, we _could_ ,” she drawled. “Might’ve gotten kicked out, though.”

He nipped at her bottom lip. “Smartarse.” He pulled away from the kiss. His eyes were bright, his lips red. “Is this all right?”

Rose rolled her eyes, quickly said, “Yes,” and pulled his mouth to hers. Her hands wandered up and down his back and into his hair, never resting in one location for long. She wanted more of him, needed more of him. But he’d put the brakes on their snogging session the last time she’d wrapped her legs around him, so she settled instead for hugging him closer with her arms while she focused intently on keeping her legs and hips to herself.

Therefore, she was delighted when James lifted himself onto his elbow and push her into the mattress. Their lips disconnected, but he instead latched them onto the side of her neck. Pleasure sparked beneath his mouth, sending shivers through her entire body. As he lavished attention to her neck and throat, he rolled atop her, settling himself between her hips; though with how tall he was, none of the fun bits were touching yet. But this was much closer than they’d gotten before, so Rose wasn’t going to complain.

“Is this all right?” he whispered hoarsely into her throat.

“Yeah,” she breathed, tilting her head to give him more access.

While he nipped and sucked at her neck, she let her hands caress any inch of him she could reach. She desperately wished she could feel more of his skin, so she ducked her hands under his shirt, mapping out the broad planes of his back. He whimpered when her nails scraped up and down his spine.

His hands, in turn, also began to explore. They dipped beneath her sweatshirt and he splayed his palm over her belly, then walked his fingers up and down her ribs. He went a little too high on one pass and grazed the underside of her breast. Her _bare_ breast.

He froze above her, but before he could yank his hand away, Rose grabbed it from overtop her sweatshirt.

“S’okay,” she panted. “It’s okay. You can touch ‘em.”

He licked his lips nervously, and, still through the fabric of her sweatshirt, Rose guided his hand up to her breast. His eyes fluttered shut when his palm covered her breast, skating across her pebbled nipple.

“Rose,” he croaked.

“S’okay,” she repeated, and she took her hand away from his, letting him explore at his leisure. Or remove his hand, if he was uncomfortable.

Thank God, he wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand tentatively charted this new territory, rolling her breast around in his fingers and palm, altering the pressure and speed of his squeezes and caresses.

“I’d offer to take my top off, but your aunt is right down the hall,” Rose drawled.

James chuckled. “We’d probably be okay. She takes sleeping pills when she travels; she’ll be out cold ‘til the morning.” He rubbed his thumb across her nipple, sending sparks through her body. “I… I want…”

An insistent heat throbbed between her legs. “What do you want?”

He shifted, lifting his weight off of her. Before she could protest, she realized he’d scooted forward a few inches. He towered above her, but now their hips were aligned in perfect, wonderful contact.

Both of their pajama bottoms were obscenely thin, and she was able to make out every hard inch of him through the fabric. A strangled cry came out of his throat and his hand tightened seemingly involuntarily around her breast. An echoing sound came from her as his erection pressed almost perfectly against her. 

“Is- is this okay?” he asked, his voice thin.

“Yeah. Is it okay for you?” she asked.

He laughed. “It’s bloody brilliant, Rose. This feels… you feel… amazing.”

She smiled at the wonder in his voice. “Remember, we can stop at any time.”

His eyes scanned her face rapidly. “And… and if I don’t want to stop?”

A violent shiver of anticipation rippled through Rose. “Then that’s okay too.”

The words didn’t come out as teasingly as she would’ve liked, but he seemed to get the gist of it.

James nodded and he ducked down to kiss her before he returned his attention to her neck and jaw. He let his teeth and tongue tease her until she was trembling beneath him, unable to keep still, not with the hard length of him pushed so deliciously into her.

She placed her hands on his shoulders while she lifted her legs until her thighs were wrapped around his narrow hips. She raked her fingers through his hair, enjoying in the range of noises he made. 

He tentatively rocked his hips against hers a couple times, unable to find or maintain a rhythm. Nevertheless, it felt fantastic. With every hard press of him against her, Rose had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

James, too, muffled his sounds of pleasure into her skin. “Rose, I…” He moaned, long and low; the sound made her stomach swoop. “This feels incredible.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, scraping her nails up and down his back. “Yeah, it does.”

He let out a curse and ground down, hard. Rose’s belly tightened. If he kept moving like this, she was going to come right there. Part of her wanted to let it happen while the other part of her kept nagging that his aunt was _right down the hall_. She sincerely hoped James was correct about her having taken sleeping pills, because they weren’t exactly being quiet, no matter how hard they tried.

Breathy moans and grunts were coming from the both of them as their bodies writhed restlessly. Their hips had found some semblance of a rhythm, thrusting so deliciously that Rose was unable to tell where one frisson of pleasure ended and another began. Every nerve in her body tingled. His mouth nipped and sucked at her neck while his hand continued wandering between her breasts and belly. His touch was reverent, his fingers skating around her nipples and the valley between her breasts.

Her hands, meanwhile, were mostly in his hair, drawing shudders from him whenever she scraped her nails across his scalp.

Time had ceased to mean anything as she lost herself in him, in touching and being touched by him. The pressure in her gut mounted until she was sure it had to break soon.

James was so hard and grinding so deliberately that Rose wondered how much longer he would last. There were a few times she’d thought he was about to come, when his cries had become urgent and his hips had stuttered, but he’d remained hard and rediscovered a rhythm.

When it happened the next time, Rose knew it was for real. Her stomach swooped in response.

“Rose,” he gasped, rutting almost frantically against her. His entire body began to tremble above her. “Rose, I think I… I need… I’m gonna…”

His breathing hitched and a dark flush stained his cheeks and neck. He was close, and Rose wanted so badly for him to come, to see him and hear him and feel him come undone. She herself was nearly there, balancing precariously…

“Let it happen,” she whispered, tightening her legs around him to give them both better friction. He whimpered at the motion. “Let go, James. It’s okay. Let go. ‘Cos I’m gonna, too.”

“ _Oh_ ,” he choked, his hips jerking unsteadily. “Ohhhh, oh God. Oh, _fuck_ …”

A low whine issued from deep in his throat. His entire face went slack even as his brows furrowed tightly into an expression of absolute relief and ecstasy. His jaw hung open slightly and he grunted in time with every flex of his hips into hers, rocking and rubbing and pressing impossibly closer.

Bloody _fucking_ hell, she could _feel_ him, the heavy throb of his cock through his pajamas.

She was done for. Arching her hips up into him, she ground herself against him. Though she’d closed her eyes, the memory of his face was clear behind her lids. He was still making those _devastating_ noises, a cross between a cry and a moan, and he was still coming against her, and she was lost…

She bit her lips as her release barreled down her spine, the pressure low in her belly breaking as hot waves of pleasure pulsed through her. She squeezed her thighs tighter around his hips, as though to draw him deeper into herself as she clenched and contracted around nothing. But it felt bloody _fantastic_ as she floated away from her body and into the hazy fog of bliss.

When she opened her eyes, James was gazing down at her through glazed eyes. His cheeks were a dull crimson color, and he looked delightfully satisfied. She wanted to keep that mental image forever.

She grinned up at him, and he let out a giggle, one that she couldn’t help but return. They were soon laughing somewhat hysterically, trying to muffle the noise in each other’s shoulders.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, trembling with a combination of mirth and the aftershocks of that rather magnificent orgasm.

“I just… _came_ in my _pants_ ,” he wheezed. “Like a bloody _teenager_.”

Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. She was so overwhelmingly happy and in love that she let out a laugh that almost could have been a sob as her eyes welled up. _How cliché is that?_ she muttered to herself. It took half a minute before her eyes weren’t as prickly anymore.

“How was it?” she asked, brushing his hair away from his flushed face.

“Really brilliant,” he admitted. “And- and for you? Was that all right?”

“Did you miss the part where I came, too?” she asked, pinching him lightly. He breathed out a laugh and looked so pleased with himself. She pressed a firm kiss to his lips and confided, “You know, nobody’s never made me come from a bit of dry humping before.”

A dazzling smile crossed his face. “Yeah?”

“Yup,” she said, squeezing him. 

James eventually rolled off of her, but didn’t go far; he flopped onto his belly beside her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder while he secured an arm around her ribs. They lay in silence for a few minutes. Rose listened to the drama on the television and his quiet breathing. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but it sounded as though the film was nearly over. But she didn’t want it to be over. She wasn’t ready to say goodnight to James.

Thankfully, though, he didn’t seem ready to say goodnight to her, either. He instead nuzzled closer and breathed out a long sigh, the soft whisper of it raising goosebumps along her neck.

“I love you, Rose,” he mumbled, kissing her collarbone. “And I- I want to thank you. For not teasing me about… well, about my _inexperience_.”

Rose frowned and shifted to glance down at him, but he kept his face tucked to the side of her neck. She carded her fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.

“I would _never_ ,” she said, “tease you about that.” She paused, a horrible thought coming to her. “Have you… has someone teased you about it before?”

“Some of my classmates,” he said, nonchalant. “And- and one of my ex-girlfriends. We’d been classmates for a semester when she asked me out. We’d gone on one date together when she invited me to her flat for coffee after dinner.”

Rose closed her eyes and winced, realizing what must have happened.

“I didn’t, er, understand that this apparently meant something else,” James continued, his tone self-deprecating. “I was in for quite the shock when not only did she not start making coffee, but she led me to the sofa and yanked me down on top of her and tried to take my shirt off. I’d never moved so fast in my life to get off of her, though I think I offended her. She was annoyed with me and asked me what the hell I thought she meant when she asked me to come up to her flat for coffee. I can’t remember what else she or I said, but I do remember that she finally realized how, er, inexperienced I was. And she… well, she laughed. Needless to say, we never went on another date.”

Rose was unsure how it was possible that her heart was breaking and raging at the same time. She wanted to track down this girl and give her a piece of her mind. She wanted to shout until she was blue in the face, because how could somebody be so cruel and callous towards another person, but especially James, who was sweet and tender and lovely.

But since she couldn’t find the girl who’d made fun of him, Rose turned her attention to what she could do. She gave James a long, hard squeeze. “Her loss. You’re mine now.”

She threaded her fingers into James’s hair and tugged gently, urging his face out of her neck. When he did, his cheeks had dulled to the shade of pink that Rose knew meant he was embarrassed. Desperate to wipe that look off his face, she massaged his scalp and ducked her head to kiss him.

She kept it slow and soft, trying to pour every ounce of love and comfort into the kiss as she could. He shuddered and reciprocated the kiss, his lips falling into a complementary rhythm to hers.

When she broke the kiss, she didn’t move far. Instead, she trailed her lips down his jaw and up his cheek, his day-old stubble tickling her mouth. She brushed kisses along his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, then around his forehead, following the trail of freckles smattered across his fair skin. James sighed and his eyes fluttered shut, leaning into her.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. That girl was an arse and didn’t deserve to go on a date with you.”

He breathed out a laugh through his nose, and burrowed closer to her once more.

Rose appreciated the role reversal of their positions; usually it was her tucked into his side, her head on his chest, her arm around his waist. But she loved the weight of James draped over her, one of his legs slung across hers, his arm tucked snugly around her middle, his cheek pillowed on her collarbone. She loved holding him just as much as being held by him.

The film they’d been watching had ended and a new one had started, but Rose didn’t dare draw attention to that fact. She wanted this cuddle to go on for as long as possible. And James didn’t appear to be bothered. In fact, he was half asleep against her shoulder.

So she closed her eyes and listened to the television, focusing on the pressure of his body along hers. She was getting so sleepy now, and after fighting it for a few long minutes to better soak up the intimacy of their cuddle, she eventually succumbed to it and fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned, today (May 26th) is my birthday! The most awesome birthday gift you could give me would be to drop a comment to let me know what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> Next update: June 10th


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose celebrate Christmas Day.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~7900
> 
> Chapter Rating: soft Mature

Rose awoke sometime later, realizing the television had been turned off and James wasn’t in her arms anymore. Before she could be too disappointed, the solid black shape beside her finally took form in the darkness. James. He was sleeping peacefully, his long body tucked to the edge of the sofa bed mattress despite his cozy bed just down the hall.

She should’ve realized he was still next to her—with their combined body heat, it had become almost sweltering beneath the sheets. Careful not to jostle the mattress too much, Rose stripped off her sweatshirt and dropped it to the floor before settling down to try to get a bit more sleep.

When she next awoke, it was because of movement beside her. Something soft tickled her cheek and nose right before something heavy fell across her chest and thighs. Her eyes shot open. There was a grayish-blue hue glowing from the windows, promising an incoming dawn, and silhouetted against that was a mass of tangled brown hair.

The hair was moving, though, as James tucked his face into her neck and squeezed the arm that was around her ribs. He settled a moment later with a sigh that sent shivers across her neck.

He was on his stomach and half-rolled on top of her, an arm and leg draped over her. She peeked down at him, but could hardly see anything through his mop of hair. She dragged her fingers through his hair, smoothing it away from his face.

He hummed low in his throat, a purr that would rival even Pippin’s. She smiled faintly and continued petting his hair, hoping he’d make the noise again. Instead, he tilted his head further into her touch.

Her chest ached. How could she love someone so much? How could he have worked his way into every crack of her heart, mending and healing as he went?

“I love you,” she murmured, nearly inaudible so he wouldn’t wake up. “More than anyone.”

Waking up to him beside her was even better than she’d dreamed it would be. She remembered when she and Jimmy had begun sleeping together, back when things were perfect. She remembered the undiluted joy and pleasure of seeing the man she loved in a state of vulnerability that he was willing to share with her.

She was so glad she got to experience it with James, and she wondered how she was supposed to go back to sleeping alone.

He sighed again and squeezed his limbs tighter around her, anchoring himself. The movement brought his hips in better alignment with her thigh, and she felt the hard, firm heat of him through his pajama bottoms. Logically, she knew it was a physiological process, that many men woke up with an erection and that it had absolutely nothing to do with sexual desire or pleasure. But logic went out the door when she felt him hard against her.

Last night had been wonderful, and she wondered when they could do something similar again. But he looked so peaceful, she couldn’t bear to wake him up yet, not even for a quick morning make out session.

Rose exhaled and closed her eyes, drifting in that nothingness between sleep and wakefulness for an immeasurable amount of time. When she was roused back to awareness, it was from James shifting beside her.

Tilting her head, she met his dazed, sleepy expression. A smile stole across his face.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his voice scratchy. “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

She was barely able to reply, “Merry Christmas,” when his lips covered hers in a long, lazy kiss. She smiled into his mouth and buried her hands in his hair, encouraging him to press even closer. He did, and his morning erection dragged up her thigh and to her hip, coaxing a gasp from his throat.

After one more kiss that curled her toes and made her want to pull him atop her, James pulled away. He lounged on his side, propping his head up with one hand while his other covered her stomach, tracing shapeless patterns over her shirt in comfortable, casual touches.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

She nodded. “Did you? You could’ve gone to your own bed, y’know. Probably comfier than this one.”

“Perhaps, but the company in this bed was much nicer,” he said. As if to prove his point, he bent down and kissed her softly. He retreated a second later, his eyes a little wide. “Did I… did I overstay my welcome? Should I have left last night? I’ll admit, I dozed off for a bit after we… But I woke up maybe a half hour later, and you were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you and I was comfortable where I was and my room felt too far away, but I didn’t even consider that maybe you didn’t want me…”

“James, stop,” she said, covering his hand on her stomach. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’re fine. It’s fine that you slept here tonight. It was nice, waking up beside you.”

He smiled down at her. “It was nice for me too. I could get used to it. Sharing a bed with you.”

Her heart soared. “Well that’s good to hear, since it’s bound to happen eventually, unless you want to spend our entire lives sleeping in different bedrooms.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Absolutely not. I…” He sucked on the inside of his cheek for a moment, as though contemplating his words. “I would love to share a home with you, Rose. I wish we could live together right now. I feel stupid, because I’m nervous to, well, to have sex, and yet I have no reservations about moving in together. What sort of bloke is more excited about cohabitating than about sex? Not that I’m not excited to have sex, because I am.” James’s cheeks were now a dull pink as he abruptly stopped speaking. “Sorry, I don’t think my words are coming out well.”

Rose’s heart squeezed, and she reached up to brush his fringe away from his eyes. He leaned into the touch almost unconsciously.

“You don’t know how special you make me feel,” she began, speaking slowly as she tried to organize her thoughts, “when you say things like that. It’s like… it’s like you want _me_. Not my body. I feel so safe with you because I know you’re not trying to get in my pants. You love me for me, not because I’ll eventually have sex with you. You don’t know how wonderful that is.”

“Yes I do,” James said, staring down at her with an intensity that made her feel like he was staring right into her soul. “Because you make me feel like that, too. You’ve never pressured me to give more than I’m ready for. You accept me for me. I don’t… I don’t have to pretend with you. It’s a relief, to be honest. I…” He licked his lips nervously. “I almost forced myself to have sex with one of my exes.”

Rose’s heart stuttered before it began pounding uncomfortably. A sick feeling twisted her stomach as she stayed quiet, letting James share more, if he wanted to. She absently rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand, wondering how long to wait before she should say something.

But he broke the silence first.

“I was eighteen,” James said. “Finishing my last year of school. I was dating a girl named Liz. We’d known each other since I moved into the area with my aunt. She was one of my first friends. It was natural that we’d begun dating. She was my three-monther. My longest relationship.

“I could tell she was getting frustrated by the lack of physical intimacy between us. We were both virgins still, and we knew that about each other. And when I say there was a lack of anything physical, I mean that quite literally. We kissed each other, cuddled together, snogged a few times. But never anything… heavy. As I told you a few nights ago, I’d never been aroused around another person before.

“When she told me she was ready to have sex with me, I panicked, too embarrassed to tell her I didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and I didn’t want to admit that I seemingly didn’t have a sex drive, so I blurted out that I agreed, that I was ready too. So we started making out, and things just… weren’t happening. Down there. For whatever reason. I managed to convince her that I was tired, and it was reasonable to still be a bit nervous. We’d come to that decision out of the blue, after all.

“We stopped for the day. I told myself that the next time I saw her, I’d be ready. We went to her house one night, since her parents weren’t home. I told my aunt I was sleeping over at a friend’s house for the night; she told her parents she was having a friend over. When I got there, we ordered food then started kissing. I excused myself to the loo to, er, _make_ myself be ready for sex. I got an erection, but I… I hated myself. I hated everything about myself. I hated that I didn’t feel sexual urges, that I didn’t explain to Liz that I didn’t want sex, that my body could barely work properly around another human being I had feelings for. I was so uncomfortable and upset and panicked that I told Liz I’d gotten violently ill and needed to go home. I broke up with her the next day. By the following week, she was in a new relationship and by the week after that, gossip ‘round the school said she’d had sex with her new boyfriend.”

Rose’s heart was breaking in a thousand different ways for him. It must have been obvious on her face, because James smiled reassuringly and gave her fingers a squeeze.

“I’m not telling you all of this so you’ll feel sorry for me,” he said. “I’ve made my peace with my past, more or less. I’m telling you so that you know how special you are to me. How special I feel around you. And how much I love you for accepting all the unconventional pieces of me. You don’t make me feel pressured to do something I’m not comfortable with. And I feel perfectly safe with you, to tell you if I’m not ready for something. Last night…” He loosed a long, low breath. “Last night was _wonderful_. I loved everything that we did together, and not once did I feel uncomfortable. It was like… I knew that we could stop at any time, no matter how, er, _hot_ things had gotten. I knew we could stop and you wouldn’t be upset with me. Ironically, knowing that is what made me want to continue. Knowing that is what makes me want everything with you, Rose. I want _everything_. And it’s overwhelming, but I’m not afraid.”

“You ought to be a romance novelist,” Rose teased, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. How was she supposed to reply to those beautiful words? That beautiful sentiment?

James snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I want everything with you, too,” she said, because after he’d bared a piece of his heart to her, she couldn’t not respond to it. “I always want to be your best friend. I want you to be my best friend, too. I want to spend all of my time with you, now and in all the days, months, and years ahead of us.”

He grinned at her like she was the most important thing in his universe. She couldn’t help but smile back at him. She reached up and cradled her palm around the nape of his neck, pulling him towards her. He realized what she wanted and dropped down to lie beside her once more so their lips could meet in a lazy kiss.

“I love you,” she breathed, before she kissed him again.

The arm she lay on was pinned beneath her weight, but she managed to wriggle it free enough to rest her palm on his chest to feel the solid thumping of his heart. Her other hand twisted through his hair, clenching and relaxing as their lips met and parted again and again.

After a minute, James shifted until his hips pressed to her thigh. She could feel him hard through his pajama bottoms, could feel the slow rub of him as his hips rolled. Her core turned molten.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, panting a little.

She shivered at the raw desire in his voice. Her hand, which had been rather stationary against his neck, began to make an unhurried but purposeful journey around his ribs and to his lower abdomen. His shirt was twisted around his torso, so her fingers skated across bare skin, sleep-warmed and soft.

“I want… I want to touch you,” she said, caressing his abdomen and sides in long, sweeping passes.

His breath caught, his muscles jumping beneath her touch. She kept her hand where it was, merely stroking his lower belly, tousling the wispy hairs that led below the waistband of his pajama bottoms. But she never went further than that, even as his hips twitched into her touch.

“Rose,” he rasped, popping his mouth away from hers.

“Too much?” she asked, stopping the caress of her hand.

He shook his head before admitting, a little shyly, “Not enough. I… I want… I’d like…” 

Rose bit her lip and looked him straight in the eye as, inch by inch, she let her fingers walk down, down, down… 

She kept her hand outside of his trousers for now. He sucked in a sharp breath at the first touch of her hand against him through the fabric of his trousers. They were so thin that it barely made a difference anyway. Rose could make out the curved head, the length. Experimentally, she curled her fingers around him, wishing she were touching him properly. He exhaled raggedly, eyes fluttering shut.

A hot, wet, insistent throb pulsed between her legs, and she ached to shove down both their trousers and sink onto him. He would feel so good inside of her, fill her so deliciously… 

A pointedly cleared throat jolted Rose to her senses. She yanked her hand away from James, thankful that the sheet was still covering them. Though, judging by her arched eyebrow, Sarah Jane knew exactly what they’d been doing.

“Aunt Sarah,” James squeaked, his voice several octaves too high, his cheeks a brighter red than Rose had ever seen. “I didn’t hear you get up. Sleep well? Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said with a wry smile.

“I… Rose was… we were… we were just…”

But Sarah Jane held up her hand and said, “I do _not_ need to know what you were doing.”

James’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click, and Rose was certain her cheeks were about to melt off her face.

“I think it’s a good idea if I go for a walk,” Sarah Jane continued. “I’ll be back in a half hour.”

With a very pointed look at the two of them, she walked to the front door, slipped on her shoes and coat, then walked out the door.

“Oh my God,” Rose muttered, her cheeks flaming.

“Oh my God,” James parroted, looking dumbstruck. “I am… _so_ sorry. I forgot all about my aunt.”

“Oh my God,” Rose said again. There was nothing else going through her head. She had just been caught making out with James _by his aunt_. She’d had her hand on James’s cock _in front of his aunt_.

He scrubbed his palms over his face. “That has never happened to me before.”

“I would think not,” she teased, elbowing him. After a beat, she said, “My mum once caught me and Jimmy necking on the sofa. She came home a lot earlier than I expected. We only had our pants on and things were… well, they were quite heated when my mum walked in on us. There was absolutely no denying what we were doing and what it was leading up to. She chased Jimmy out of the flat, beating at him with her bag. He could barely gather up his clothes before he bolted out of the flat in nothing but his pants. She gave me a good tongue-lashing, too.”

Rose snorted at the memory, though at the time, it had been mortifying.

“Thank God I am separated from your mother by an entire ocean,” he drawled.

Rose smacked him halfheartedly.

“While my aunt is out, can I give you your first Christmas gift?” James asked, his eyes lighting up.

Rose arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “You got me a gift that you can’t give me in front of your aunt?”

James rolled his eyes. “Not like that. It’s…” His cheeks went a little pink. “It’s personal. A gift for the both of us.”

Curiosity piqued, Rose reclined against the pillows and watched James stand from the bed. She tried not to notice or stare at the very prominent erection tenting the front of his pajama bottoms. He walked to the Christmas tree and bent down to plug in the lights, bathing the dim room in a soft golden glow.

He retrieved a small, rectangular package wrapped in shimmery red paper then skipped back to the bed and plopped down beside her.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, handing it to her.

Eager, she slipped her finger beneath the paper and ripped it off, revealing a journal. A _couple’s_ journal. Flipping it to the front, she read _Our Q &A a Day_.

“It’s a diary, of sorts,” James explained. “For couples to fill out together. It has daily questions we can answer together, and the really cool part is that it leaves space for us to leave answers for three years. So we can watch to see how our responses change or stay the same over the years. It- it’s a sort of time capsule for our relationship. I know our relationship is quite new, but I just _know_ that you’re the one, and that we’ll still be together to fill out this journal together for three years and even beyond that, but unfortunately there’s no space for us to go beyond three years in this diary but I suppose we could buy a new one with the exact same questions and continue it that way. Wouldn’t that be neat, for us to be old and wrinkly and look back to see how we answered these questions through the years? I thought it was neat…”

His words came quicker the longer he spoke, as though he were trying to justify such a beautiful, thoughtful gift.

“I love it,” she interrupted. “James, this is brilliant. I love it.”

He grinned, relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “Have I told you lately how sweet you are?”

“Sweet?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. “Excuse you, I am manly and tough and…”

“And sweet,” Rose said, knocking her elbow into his. “Don’t you know how sexy sweetness is?”

He blinked. “It- it is?”

“There is nothing sexier,” she said, lifting herself up onto her knees. Moving slowly, she straddled his lap. His eyes darkened and his hands automatically went to her hips. “You are sweet and tender and loving, and you make it all dead sexy.”

She ducked down and caught his lips in a kiss. He hummed, pulling her closer. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers into his hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. His hands slipped under her shirt, and she shivered as his palms stroked her back in long, lazy sweeps.

“M-my aunt,” he rasped, pulling away from the kiss.

Rose opened her eyes and met James’s gaze. He looked as dazed as she felt. His lips were red and slightly swollen and his hair was a mess.

“My aunt will be back soon,” he said, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move. His hands were still tracing lines up and down her spine.

“Right,” she said, breathless.

With a near-silent sigh, Rose shifted off of him, and stood on unsteady legs. She walked to her overnight bag and slung it over her shoulder before walking down the hall to the guest bathroom. James followed a short distance behind, on his way for his own shower.

After a cool shower that did absolutely nothing to quench the desire pulsing dully between her thighs, Rose stuffed her pajamas and toiletries into her bag and returned to the living room. James had already folded up the sofa bed, leaving his living room looking like normal again.

Rose then headed into the kitchen, where she heard James and his aunt talking quietly.

“Morning,” she announced.

Her face heated with lingering embarrassment at Sarah Jane having walked in on her and James in bed together. But she tried to push it aside as she stepped to the cabinet she knew held James’s mug collection. On her way, she bent and gave Merry and Pippin a quick stroke of hello; they were too engrossed in their food to pay her any mind.

“Here,” James said, appearing beside her. He rested his hand on her lower back and reached with his other towards the cabinet. “Gotta be festive today.”

He plunked a reindeer mug onto the counter. Rose finally realized he and his aunt were both drinking coffee out of a Christmas tree and snowman mug, respectively. He brushed a kiss to her temple, then moved to fill the kettle.

Once her morning cup of tea was ready, they all retreated to the living room to unwrap presents.

“Rose, you first,” James said, plopping a gift down in her lap.

She unwrapped it to reveal a box, and inside the box was a hoodie, a long-sleeve shirt, and a beanie, all with the university’s emblem on them.

“I noticed you don’t have uni gear,” James said. “Except, perhaps, for the cheap t-shirt all first years get during orientation. Now you can look more official.”

Rose beamed. It was true; she didn’t own any university paraphernalia, mostly because it was so damn expensive. She didn’t even want to consider how much James had spent on these, so instead, she said, “They’re wonderful. Thank you.”

She leaned over and planted a chaste kiss to his cheek, then went to the tree for a gift for James and for his aunt.

Rose sipped her tea and watched over the rim of the mug as they each tore into the paper, James with all the vim and vigor of a child while Sarah Jane neatly followed the seams.

“Oh, brilliant!” James crowed as he pulled a t-shirt from the paper. He held it up so his aunt could see the graphic on the front: nine planets were swinging on a Newton’s cradle, but Pluto was knocked out of line, strings broken, forever lost to the rest of the planets.

“Poor Pluto,” James lamented. He focused his gaze on Rose, a grin still splitting his face. “This is hilarious. I love it. Thank you!”

“I’m glad,” Rose said. She’d seen the t-shirt online over a month ago and had thought of James right away.

Rose then turned to glance at Sarah Jane, who had taken her gift out of the wrapping paper. She’d gifted James’s aunt a simple journal and fountain pen set.

“Thank you very much,” Sarah Jane said. “It’s lovely.”

Rose smiled tentatively.

“Your turn,” James announced, leaping to his feet.

He grabbed two more gifts, both large boxes, and dropped them delicately into Rose’s lap.

“Grab yours while you’re up,” Rose told him, gesturing to her final gift for James.

Rose looked at the boxes on her lap. One was addressed from James, the other from his aunt. She decided to open Sarah Jane’s first. It was a set of decorative geode lights. They were small and simple, but gorgeous. Rose couldn’t wait to place them around her flat.

“Thank you,” she told Sarah Jane, beaming. “They’re beautiful.”

Rose then turned to James’s last gift. She ripped off the paper, revealing a box labeled ‘Pampers’. Rose hadn’t been in the country long, but wasn’t Pampers a brand that sold nappies and wipes for babies?

“The box has nothing to do with your gift,” James explained. “I needed a box and the old lady next door had that out with her recycling so I repurposed it.”

“I was getting slightly concerned,” Rose teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “We’re not exactly in danger of needing nappies any time soon.”

Sarah Jane coughed somewhat pointedly, and Rose’s cheeks heated.

“I know you’re both consenting adults,” Sarah Jane said delicately, “but just remember to, er, take precautions.”

Rose rubbed her fingers into her eyes while James squeaked, “Yes, Aunt Sarah. Nothing to worry about.”

Thankfully that was the end of it, but Rose’s face was still on fire as she peeled off the tape from the box. Inside was a slow cooker.

“I recently got a new one,” James said. “Was gonna donate that to a second hand shop. You said you don’t like cooking, but I thought you might like to try some slow cooker recipes. They’re really easy: you just dump stuff into the pot and leave it alone for hours. It makes a lot of food, so you can freeze some for leftovers. And most of the time the only dishes you make are the actual slow cooker itself. I put some of my favorite recipes into the pot, to give you a starting point. I love tossing stuff into the pot in the morning, putting it on low, and having a hot meal ready when I get home at night.”

“It’s perfect,” Rose said. “Thank you.”

James smiled, then opened his gift with relish. Rose gnawed on her bottom lip, ready to explain as soon as he saw what it was.

“Er… thanks?” 

He pulled out a pamphlet that had several plants on the front, and Rose said, “Sorry, your present wasn’t ready in time for Christmas. I thought you might like a little terrarium of plants. Succulents, to be more precise. Some of the plants in that brochure are in your terrarium. I made sure everything would be safe around cats. The place I bought it from said it should be ready this week.”

“Oh, brilliant!” James sang, flipping through the pamphlet. “I love succulents! I’ve never owned a succulent. That’s a fun word, innit? _Succulent_.”

“I have several myself,” Rose said. “They’re easy to take care of, too. You can’t kill ‘em if you forget to water them.”

“The perfect plants for me, then,” James said, sheepishly pointing to the yellowed, droopy spider plants hanging near his windows. “I’d like to blame it on Pippin, who likes to chew the leaves, but really, I can never remember to water the damn things. I ought to throw it away but that feels like giving in.”

Rose laughed at him. “Well, now you’ll have something to replace those plants with. I’ll let you know as soon as I know when I can go pick up your terrarium.”

oOoOo

The rest of Christmas Day passed lazily. James and his aunt had a tradition of playing board games together on holidays, and this was no different. Rose joined in with the fun, playing new games and old ones James had taught her previously.

In their game of _Risk_ , James kept getting lucky rolls of the dice, prompting Rose and Sarah Jane to mercilessly gang up on him. He whined pitifully as his armies grew smaller and smaller until he was at last conquered.

And although Rose replied to her mother’s “Merry Christmas” text, it seemed that wasn’t enough, and shortly before dinner was ready, Rose received a video chat request from her mother. She grimaced down at her phone and contemplated ignoring it, since she felt rude to leave mid-way through dinner prep, but James saw the name and said, “Go on. I’ll come get you once dinner’s finished. You can use my room for privacy, if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” She hurried down the hall so the call wouldn’t end itself. The moment she closed James’s door, she accepted the call.

“Hi Mum,” she said, slightly breathless from her sprint down the hall.

“What are you out of breath for?” her mother asked, frowning.

Rose rolled her eyes and sat down on the edge of James’s bed. 

Her mother’s eyes widened and she shrieked, “Rose Tyler, you better not have been shagging that boy!”

“What?” Rose spluttered, cheeks flaming. “No! Of course not, I…”

“You’re in a _bedroom_!”

Groaning, Rose rubbed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “I was in the kitchen helping with dinner when you called. James let me use his room so I could talk with you. I ran here to answer your call in time. That’s all.” _Not that it’s any of your business if I’m shagging my boyfriend_.

“A likely story,” Jackie grumbled. “I suppose you’ve spent Christmas with him, then?”

“Would you have preferred me to have spent it alone in my flat?” Rose shot back.

“No need to get snippy with me, missy, I was just askin’ a question,” Jackie said hotly.

Rose swallowed down her retort. Instead, she said, “Merry Christmas, Mum.”

Her mother’s face softened. “Merry Christmas, love. It’s weird, not havin’ you here.”

“It’s a bit weird for me, too,” Rose admitted. She had always spent Christmas with her mother, even when she and Jimmy were dating. It was one of the only times her mum pushed aside her dislike for Jimmy so that Rose would join her for Christmas dinner.

“Did your bloke get you anything good?”

Rose told her mother about the clothes and the slow cooker, and the decorations from Sarah Jane. She saved the best for last, however, and finally told her mother about the couple’s journal James had gotten for the two of them. Rose could almost see her mother’s disdain dripping away the longer Rose spoke.

“Well,” Jackie said grudgingly, “I have to admit that boy’s got a bit of a romantic streak.”

“Yeah, he does,” Rose whispered, smiling to herself.

They were interrupted a few minutes later by a tentative knock on the door. Rose looked away from her phone and called, “Come in!”

The door cracked open, and James stuck his head inside. “Er, Rose? Sorry to interrupt. Dinner’s ready. We can wait for you, though, if you need a few more minutes.”

Before Rose could tell them to get started without her, her mother demanded, “Is that himself then? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Rose had to stifle a laugh at James’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. She gestured for him to enter and returned her attention to her mother. “Mum, this is James.”

She stood from the bed and walked into James’s side. He automatically wrapped his arm around her hips, anchoring her to him. She held her phone out in front of her so that he was in the frame.

“Er, h-hi,” he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi, Mrs. Tyler. I’m James. I’ve heard so much about…”

“ _Mrs. Tyler_?” she squawked, indignant. “What am I, ninety?”

James’s mouth worked frantically as he tried to backtrack, but Rose saw the amused glint in her mother’s eyes.

“Stop winding him up,” Rose said. “You would’ve yelled at him for having no manners if he’d gone right ahead and called you ‘Jackie’.”

“Hmph.”

Rose heaved a great sigh. “Well, sorry to cut this short—” she wasn’t— “but dinner’s ready. I don’t wanna keep his aunt waiting.”

“Hold on a minute,” Jackie said. “Don’t go swannin’ off yet. I haven’t had a chat with James.”

“You can chat with him later,” Rose insisted.

“Rose Tyler, don’t you dare hang up on me,” her mother growled. “Give your phone to your bloke. You don’t need to stay and listen.”

“Like I’d leave him at your mercy,” Rose muttered under her breath.

“I heard that! Now. James. You listen here, mate,” Jackie said, her voice full of warning. James’s face paled a bit and he gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You better not even _think_ of taking advantage. Do you hear me? Rose is not some fling you get to have during your uni days. And if you _ever_ lay a hand on my daughter, I will be on the first flight to that school of yours and I will make you regret the day you were ever born.”

Rose’s cheeks burned with mortification while James spluttered incoherently.

“I wouldn’t… I’m not… I would _never_ …”

“And if you break her heart,” Jackie continued, “I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me? It doesn’t matter that we’re in different countries, I will not hesitate to go to my daughter if you hurt her.”

Rose found herself fighting back tears. She knew her mother loved her, quite fiercely, but there had always been this sort of… disconnect between them. Jackie wasn’t really one for affection, apart from the occasional hug and kiss on the cheek. Certainly no outlandish declarations of love and devotion. But this? Hearing her mother defend her so vehemently made Rose so proud to be Jackie Tyler’s daughter, and so guilty that she hadn’t been keeping in touch as often as she should have. She vowed to change that going forward.

“I would never,” James said again, his eyes wide and imploring. “Rose is… she… I… we…”

Rose rested her head on his shoulder and gave his waist a squeeze. “Thanks, Mum. But he’s a good one.”

“You thought Jimmy Stone was a good one, too,” Jackie huffed. “But did you listen to any of my warnings? No, of course not.”

And there it was. Rose was back to being lowkey annoyed with her mother.

It seemed her mother wasn’t finished though. She jabbed a finger into her screen and said, “And I swear to God, if you knock her up…”

James made a choking noise, and Rose burst out laughing.

“It isn’t a joking matter,” Jackie snapped. “I had you at twenty and it was difficult enough even when your father was around, but after he died… Havin’ a baby is _hard_.”

“Thanks, Mum, but please don’t worry about that,” Rose said.

“I’ll help you as much as I can, but I am _not_ raising my grandbaby,” Jackie warned.

“Duly noted,” Rose said, barely managing to stifle an eyeroll. “Can James and I go to dinner now, please?”

After a bit of grumbling, Jackie blew Rose a kiss and signed off the video chat. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. She made to stand from the bed, but James grabbed her wrist loosely.

“Rose. Your mother…”

She grimaced. “Sorry ‘bout her. She can be quite a lot to get used to. But her heart’s in the right place, most of the time.”

James shook his head, and Rose recognized his grave expression. Her heart dropped. Oh God. Had he been so completely put off by her mother that he wanted nothing to do with her anymore?

“She… she said… if I ever laid a hand on you…” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Did Jimmy…?”

Realization dawned on her. “Oh! No. No, he never hit me.” Rose firmly pushed aside the memory of a thrown plate shattering into the sink, a hole in the wall, picture frames being swept to the floor. “He was never violent towards me. I still don’t think Mum believes me about that, though.”

Something in James’s eyes made Rose sure he could tell she wasn’t revealing the full truth, but she really didn’t want to get into that right now. They had so much time ahead of them; she didn’t want to spoil the magic of Christmas with reminiscences of Jimmy Stone.

But he didn’t press. Instead, his expression turned sheepish as he said, “I don’t think I made a very good first impression on your mother.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rose said. “As I said, her heart’s in the right place. She’ll warm up to you eventually once she gets to know you better.”

She stretched up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It twitched with a smile, then he turned his head and caught her lips head-on. Sighing, Rose looped her arms loosely around his shoulders, letting her lips meet and part lazily with his.

“We should go out,” James murmured between kisses. “I’ve been in here for at least ten minutes. I don’t want my aunt to get the wrong impression.”

Rose laughed, but after a final press of their mouths, she dutifully pulled away from him and together, they went out to the kitchen for Christmas dinner.

The meal was almost identical to Thanksgiving. Rose was amazed that Americans did this every year: had two turkey feasts within a month of each other.

“Actually, many Americans have ham for Christmas,” James corrected as he bit into a sweet crescent roll. “But that is absolutely bonkers, so we’ve never done it. A proper Christmas dinner has turkey, and anyone who says differently can fuck off.”

Rose snorted into her green beans and continued stuffing herself with all of the delicious food they’d made that afternoon.

Finally, drowsy and full to bursting, Rose prepared to head home for the night. Since she had to be at work early the following morning to open the grocery store, she declined James’s offer to stay a second night, no matter how she yearned to. Besides, she wanted to give James and his aunt time to spend together, since holidays were some of the only times they saw each other throughout the year.

No amount of pleading puppy eyes from James could convince Rose to change her mind (although it was a close call… not that she would ever admit that to him). So, after all the washing up was finished, Rose bade goodbye to Sarah Jane.

“It was very nice meeting you,” Sarah Jane said, giving Rose a quick hug. “I have a feeling we’ll see each other again.”

“Yeah,” Rose said, glancing at James out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, I think so too.”

With that Rose, gathered her overnight bag, the gifts she’d been given, and several containers of leftovers and made her way to James’s car. The ride to her flat was mostly quiet, apart from the radio, but it was a comfortable quiet. James reached over and threaded their fingers together as he drove.

There was plenty of parking on the street in front of her building when they arrived. James climbed out of his car to help her carry her things up to her flat. After having spent so much time with James and his aunt at his house, her apartment felt far too small and far too empty. Why had she declined the invitation to spend the night with him again?

“Do you and your aunt have plans for tomorrow?” Rose asked before she could become too overwhelmed with self-pity.

“We’ve got tickets to see a theater show,” James replied, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s a production of _A Christmas Story_. My aunt and I always try to see a Christmassy theater show every year.”

“That sounds like fun,” Rose said, ignoring the flare of jealousy forming in the pit of her stomach. She would be stuck at work until the afternoon anyway.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” After a moment of semi-awkward silence, he asked, “What does your work schedule look like this week?”

“Tomorrow is another long day,” Rose answered. “But after that, I’m done by noon every day, and I’m completely off for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, brilliant! We’ll have to make plans. We haven’t gone on very many dates yet. I’m slacking in the boyfriend department.”

“You know, we don’t have to go places for it to be considered a date,” Rose argued.

“Oh, I know. But we’ve stayed in so many times, I’d like to go out places with you. If that’s all right? There are plenty of free things to do, so don’t worry about that. But I would also love to take you places and pay for your admission. There’s so much I want to do with you.”

Rose giggled as the words left his mouth in rapid-fire fashion. Lifting up onto her toes, she quieted him in her favorite way. His words melted away as he leaned into her kiss, dropping his hands to the small of her back to hold her closer.

“We have plenty of time,” she whispered. “We don’t need to do everything all at once. We’ve got the rest of our lives to do stuff together.”

He grinned, giggling from high up in his throat, and the sound was so joyful that she couldn’t help but kiss him again. She anchored her arms tighter around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He moved his hands to her hips and pushed. Not pushing her away, but guiding her, leading her.

Following eagerly, Rose shuffled back a step. Two steps. Three steps. Her back hit the front door, and James moved impossibly closer until the lengths of their bodies were pressed tightly together. His fingers skated up and down her sides while his lips glided with hers.

She had to tilt her head to keep kissing him, thanks to his towering height. His lips gradually migrated away from her mouth and towards her jaw, down her neck. Shivering, Rose gasped for breath as his lips and teeth planted row upon row of biting kisses to her skin. She buried her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp as he came dangerously close to leaving love bites all across her neck.

His hips kept her pinned to the door, and she could feel him getting hard with every passing second. He moaned quietly into her neck when he rolled his hips against hers in a long, slow grind. Up and in, then down and out. He did it again, again, again until Rose was shivering and panting, ready to rip both their trousers off.

Just as she was about to hook her thigh around his hip, he pulled his lips away from her neck and dropped his head to her shoulder. He was breathing hard, fingertips biting into her hips as he stood against her, motionless.

“All right?” she asked gently, running her fingers through his hair.

He groaned and shuddered. When he lifted his head, his eyes were dark, devouring.

“It’s intense,” he admitted.

Rose nodded even though she was confused. In her opinion, this was less intense than what they’d done together the night before.

“I was getting overwhelmed. It was getting hard for me to stop,” he said.

She bit her lip, considering. “We… we don’t have to stop.”

His throat bobbed for several seconds, but he was spared from responding by the ringing of his phone. Cursing, he straightened and took a step away as he fished in his pocket for his phone.

“Jack,” he answered curtly.

Now that she had a bit of space, Rose’s head cleared. There was still an intense, aching throb between her legs, but she didn’t feel as in danger of dropping her trousers right then and there. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair and went to the fridge for a drink of water, to help cool off and to give her something to do so it didn’t look like she was eavesdropping. Still, with how small her flat was, she heard the conversation almost perfectly.

Nevertheless, when James ended the call, she let him explain.

“That was Jack,” he said. “Jack Harkness. You met him at Thanksgiving, remember?”

“The handsome bloke with the dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass?” she asked innocently.

James’s jaw, meanwhile, ticked. She laughed and skipped to his side to press a kiss to his cheek. “M’teasing. You know I think you’re dead sexy.”

He preened for a minute. Rose let him, then asked, “So. Jack?”

“Jack, right,” he said. “He invited us to a New Year’s Eve party at his place. Would you like to go? Or do you have other plans?”

Rose was a little ashamed to admit that she hadn’t made all that many friends during her first semester at uni. It was difficult, when she’d been so frantic about passing chemistry and spending most of her spare time with James. She made it a goal to find more friends for herself during the next term.

“No plans,” she said. “I’d love to. Sounds fun.”

James snorted. “Yeah, Jack knows how to throw a party. I’ll let him know we’ll be coming.”

It took every ounce of self control for Rose not to make a naughty joke. Instead she took another sip of her water.

“I should probably head home,” James said, a touch of regret in his voice.

“Yeah,” she said. “Don’t want your aunt to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

Rose winked, making him laugh. 

“Well, thank you for celebrating Christmas with us,” James said, unlatching the deadbolt from her front door. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Rose said. “Better than sitting ‘round my flat by myself.”

James nodded. “Y’know… if you ever want company or something, you can come to my house whenever you’d like.” He fished around in his pocket, withdrawing his key ring. He fumbled with it for a moment, and in the time it took Rose to realize what he was doing, he’d extricated a key from all the others. “Here. To my house. Use it as little or as much as you’d like. But I want you to know my home is always open for you, Rose. Even if all you want to do is to say hi to the cats.”

“Oh, you can be sure I’ll visit daily to give the boys my love,” Rose teased, sticking her tongue out. He pouted, like she knew he would, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I guess I can give you some love, too.”

“Don’t make me take my key back,” he whined. 

“Nope, it’s mine now,” she sang, dropping it down her bra. His eyes widened as he followed its path. “You’re stuck with me. Ha ha!”

“Hmm, I guess I can live with that.”

Rose pinched his bum, grinning when he squealed and squirmed.

“Right, be gone with you,” she said, opening the front door.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he promised, leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to her lips.

“‘Kay,” she murmured, having to restrain herself from kissing him again. “Bye.”

He waved at her, an adorable little wiggling of his fingers before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the stairs. As always, Rose skipped to her front window and pressed her nose to the glass, waiting. Half a minute later, James exited her building and jogged to his car.

She watched him start his car and pull away from the curb, already missing him deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter. Comments from you all are the sweetest hit of serotonin <3
> 
> Next update: June 24th


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose take another step together in furthering their intimacy.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~7200
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Y'all are getting this update a few days early since I've got family in town, and between visiting with them and doing a lot of little things to get my sister moved into her new house, I knew I'd be too busy to post this on Wednesday. Enjoy!

James loved his aunt. Truly. He loved his aunt. But he couldn’t deny that he was glad when she headed out on the morning of the twenty-eighth to visit some friends in New York. James hadn’t seen his girlfriend since he’d dropped her off at her flat after Christmas dinner—that was an entire two and a half days ago, and was utterly unacceptable, in his opinion. He and Rose had chatted on the phone a few times, and texted whenever they had a spare moment, but James, plain and simple, _missed_ her.

And so, at noon, James found himself waiting outside of the grocery store Rose worked at, wanting to surprise her after her shift. His heart gave a funny little lurch when he saw her step out of the store, bundled up in her coat, scarf, and new university beanie. He leaped from his car and began jogging towards her.

She must have seen him—or at least sensed somebody approaching—because she looked up. When she realized it was him, her face broke out into the broadest, happiest smile. He couldn't help but mirror the expression, and he opened up his arms for her. She jumped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“James!” she squealed, squeezing him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing?”

“Surprising my girlfriend after work.”

“Ahh, guess I better clear out of here ‘fore she comes out.”

James rolled his eyes and pinched her waist, but doubted she felt it through her coat. Rose slid her arms away from his shoulders, but kept her hand on the nape of his neck.

“I missed you,” she whispered, then she leaned up to press her lips to his.

He melted into her, palms splaying across her back to hold her closer. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the magic that was kissing Rose Tyler. Their lips met so perfectly, moving in sync with each other.

“Oh! I nearly forgot!” Dazed, James straightened, trying to clear his head enough to concentrate on what Rose was saying. “Your succulents are ready! I was gonna head over and pick ‘em up this afternoon.”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s head over there now, shall we?”

But Rose paused and bit her lip. “I, er… I actually have somewhere to be right now.”

His heart fell. He’d hoped they would spend the afternoon together.

“Oh,” he said, his voice a little hollow. “Oh, right. Yeah. ‘Course. Sorry. I can drive you there, if you’d like. Unless someone is picking you up?”

Her cheeks went slightly pink and she began wringing her scarf between her hands. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s fine,” he said gently. And really, it was. “You’re allowed to have a life outside of me. I _want_ you to have a life outside of me. It’s good that you’re gonna go meet up with people. Swing by my house after you’ve finished? Eh? Use that fancy new key I gave you.”

“It’s a doctor’s appointment,” she blurted out.

He blinked. “A doctor’s appointment?” Something snagged his attention. “But… you just had a doctor’s appointment last week. Is everything all right? Are you all right?”

“It’s a… a follow-up,” Rose mumbled, now strangling her poor scarf.

“Follow-ups are for things that have gone wrong,” he said, his voice going faint in his growing panic. “What’s wrong, Rose? Please…”

She groaned and scrubbed her hands across her face. Voice muffled, she said, “It’s a gynecologist appointment. Y’know… a lady doctor.”

He wasn’t mollified. “What’s wrong, Rose? You don’t need to be embarrassed to tell me. I want to support you, if I can. If you need some sort of procedure done, or medicine, or…”

She cursed under her breath then said in a rush, “It’s… tosortoutbirthcontrol.”

James frowned. “I… sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

She finally dropped her hands from her face. With exaggerated slowness, she repeated, “It’s to sort out birth control.”

Now it was his turn to go red. His cheeks were uncomfortably hot as they stared at each other, simmering in their respective embarrassment.

 _Hang on_.

Why were they self-conscious? They were in a relationship that was on the tipping point of turning fully physical. It was _responsible_ of them to manage birth control so no accidents or surprises popped up, not _embarrassing_.

“Oh. Right. Yes. That's… good. Very wise decision. Should appease your mum. And my aunt, too. And of course the both of us. I love you deeply, but I’m not ready to be a dad.”

Rose nodded in agreement. “I, er, saw you’d bought condoms, actually. I was trying to find socks in your dresser one day, and I found them. And it made me realize I probably ought to get on a more permanent birth control. Condoms are great, but, well, we’re in a committed, long-term relationship. Makes a bit more sense for me to get something more long-term.”

James’s cheeks went warm again as he nodded. He’d bought those condoms a few months ago, when he realized that not only was he falling in love with Rose, but that he found her very physically attractive, and that his body was responding to her. He hadn’t wanted to assume anything, but he wanted to be covered on the slightest chance that she was attracted to him, too.

“I can drive you to your appointment,” he said. “And afterwards, we can grab some lunch then pick up my succulents? If you’d like?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, smiling tentatively.

That was how James found himself sitting alone in a gynecologist’s office, surrounded by women who were giving him surreptitious glances whenever they thought he wasn’t looking. He pretended to be busy with his phone while he waited for Rose.

He’d been waiting for about twenty minutes when she stepped into the reception area. He jumped to his feet and held her coat out for her, then he shrugged his own on. As they left, Rose slipped her hand into his.

“What, er, method did you opt for?” he asked when they’d gone outside, their clasped hands swinging loosely between them.

“IUD,” she answered. “Intrauterine device. I was on the pill when I was with Jimmy, but there would be times I’d forget to take my pill, and we’d have to go back to condoms for a bit, just to be safe. I didn’t want that, so I thought I’d give this a try.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then dropped it to open his car door and help her in. “Thank you for doing this, Rose. It’s frustrating that women are expected to sort out the birth control, and therefore male forms of birth control are woefully under-researched.”

“You owe me,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “I think buying me lunch ought to do it.”

He snorted. “I could buy you lunch every day and it still wouldn’t feel like enough, especially when you consider how expensive it is to have a baby.”

“Hmmm, you make a fair point. I’m sure you’ll think of other ways to repay me.”

She gave him a salacious wink that coiled his stomach deliciously. A small shudder rippled down his spine, and he hurriedly shut the car door before he did something rash like snog her against the seat.

They went to a Chinese place for lunch, a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant that James discovered a few months ago. The restaurant was buffet-style, and James heaped his plate full of lo mein, fried rice, sesame chicken, crab rangoon, teriyaki chicken, steamed vegetables, and anything else that caught his fancy. It was a very precarious balancing act, carrying his lunch back to their table, but he made it without incident.

While they ate, they made mindless conversation that was mostly James telling Rose about what he and his aunt had gotten up to together over the last couple of days. She, meanwhile, talked about the dramas of working with customers, and how stupid or inconsiderate some people were.

When they finished, Rose gave James directions to a small family-owned plant nursery so they could pick up his terrarium of succulents. Rose made James wait in the car, claiming that it was his Christmas gift and therefore he wasn’t allowed to see it until she let him.

After a bit of grumbling that he didn’t actually mean, he acquiesced and pouted in the car while Rose went into the nursery. Rose returned a couple minutes later, carrying a large cardboard box.

“Can I see it now?” James whined.

“Nope,” Rose said, popping the ‘p’. “You can open it when we get home. Back to your house.”

James’s heart gave a joyful lurch at hearing Rose call his house ‘home’. It was more than enough for him to drop his pity party act. He grinned at her, and began driving them to his house.

oOoOo

When they got to his house, Rose leaped out of the car to grab the cardboard box with his new succulents before he could do it under the guise of chivalry. She smiled sweetly at him and pranced to the front door. She readjusted the box and balanced part of its weight on her hip to dig in her pocket for the small keyring that, until recently, had only held two keys. Now it held three: the key to her flat, the key to her mailbox, and the key to his house.

She still couldn’t quite believe he’d given her a key to his home, but as she stuck the key into the lock, she was filled with a giddy excitement. There was something so intimate about getting a key to his house when they didn’t yet live together; he was inviting her into his home, his space, whenever she wanted to be there. And there were no expectations, either. She didn’t feel obligated to use her key to visit him, but, oddly, that made her want to use her key all the time. She wanted to spend all of her time with him, for as long as he wanted her around.

“Can I see my gift _now_?”

“What, right here on the front porch?” she asked innocently, slipping her key from the lock.

“Smartarse,” he muttered.

Rose pushed open the front door and stepped into the warm house. The familiar pitter-patter of paws padded down the hall, along with a variety of meows and chirps.

“Hey, Pip,” she cooed.

The cat headbutted her calves and rubbed the length of his body around her ankles. She stopped walking, not wanting to trip over the cat and drop James’s gift.

“You menace,” James said fondly, seeing her predicament. “Come here, baby boy.”

Rose could hear Pippin’s purr as James snatched him up into his arms and cuddled him close. The sight of James nuzzling a cat and the cat nuzzling him back nearly made Rose toss the box to the side to pin James to the door and snog him breathless.

She quickly turned away from her boyfriend and walked to the living room, where his Christmas tree was still standing. She placed the cardboard box beneath the tree and plugged in the lights, giving the room a festive ambiance for James’s final Christmas gift.

When she stood, she saw Merry had approached and was sniffing the box curiously.

“Hey, bud,” Rose said, scratching the cat behind his ears. He arched into the touch and blinked lazily at her. When Rose rubbed at his chin, she felt his throat and chest vibrating in a contented purr.

A minute later, Pippin zoomed into the room and stepped in front of his brother to receive Rose’s affection.

“Don’t you pretend that you haven’t just been given some love by your daddy,” Rose scolded, but she dutifully scratched Pippin’s chest.

He threw his body into her touch, then plopped onto the floor, rolling to his back. Rose continued rubbing his chest and belly while Pippin went nearly catatonic with pleasure.

“I swear, there has never been a cat who loves his belly rubbed as much as he does.” Rose glanced over and saw James leaning against the entry to the living room, arms crossed at his chest. “I’m certain that in his previous life, he was actually a dog, and that this is his first time through as a cat. Some of the wires are still a bit crossed.”

Rose laughed, and she gave one last rub to Pippin’s belly before she stood. She skipped up to James, who uncrossed his arms and held one out as Rose tucked herself beside him. She kissed the stubble along his jaw and whispered, “Looks like Santa brought you one more gift. Didn’t wrap it though.”

“Lazy bugger,” he teased, pecking her on the temple.

They walked to the tree and James picked up the package.

“I trust I don’t have to tell you to not shake it,” Rose said dryly.

“Why ever not?” he asked innocently.

Rose pinched his waist, making him squirm. He walked to his couch, perching on the edge as he placed the box on the coffee table. She settled beside him and chewed on her thumb cuticle as he opened the box and carefully peeled away the folded newspaper protecting the fragile glass balls within.

“Oh, these are _beautiful_!” he exclaimed.

Delicately, he picked up one of the spherical terrariums. It was a little smaller than a football— _soccer ball_ , she corrected. _Damn Americans_ —and inside was a variety of different plants. Rose made sure that all of them would be safe for cats, just in case. The succulents were all different shapes and sizes, with a vivid burgundy sempervivum at the center. Rose loved that one the best, with it’s symmetrical, spiraling leaves that formed the centerpiece rosette.

James set the first planter on the coffee table—Pippin leaped onto the table to investigate—before he reached in for the second. It was nearly identical to the first, with the same red rosette centerpiece, but the four other succulents surrounding it were slightly different than the first.

“Rose, these are gorgeous!” he said, setting the second terrarium beside the first and shooing Pippin off the table when it looked like he was about to stick his head inside the glass globe. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling shyly. It had been so difficult to figure out what to get him for Christmas, and even now, she wasn’t entirely satisfied. Gift-giving was so damn difficult sometimes. But she was glad he seemed to like his gift, so she counted it as a win.

“I think these plants can finally be relieved of duty,” James said, standing from the couch and striding to his front window where his two withered spider plants were hanging from a hook. He straightened his spine and snapped off a silly salute. “Farewell, dear plants. You served me well. If only I had remembered to water you more than once a month, and if only a certain somebody who shall not be named hadn’t chewed your poor leaves.”

“How did Pippin even reach them to chew on them?” Rose asked curiously. They were hanging several feet off the ground, and there weren’t any flat surfaces Pippin could have climbed.

“Oh, they used to be sitting on my bookshelves,” James said, nodding to the built-in shelves on the far wall. “When I realized he was chewing them, I moved them. But he’d already done quite a bit of damage.”

James unhooked the two dying plants, then disappeared into his kitchen. Rose heard a rustling noise and two thumps, then James reappeared, empty-handed. He took one of the terrariums and walked to the window. Carefully angling it, he hung the glass loop on the top of the terrarium on the empty hook.

Rose grabbed the second terrarium and hung it on the hook on the opposite side. James came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, hugging her to him. She eagerly melted into him, resting her head on his collarbone.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear, making her shiver. “What would you like to do this afternoon?”

There were a great many things she would like to do, and nearly all of them included them staying in. James nuzzled his nose to her ear, then he pressed the softest of kisses to the place her shoulder joined her neck. She shivered. Indeed, she very much wanted to stay in with him, preferably with considerably fewer clothes on.

She arched her neck. “Dunno.”

“Have you heard of Board and Brush?” he asked, trailing his fingertips up and down her neck, shoulders, and arms as he continued kissing her.

“Hmmm.” She had no idea what he’d said, and didn’t care, as long as he kept kissing her like that.

“I think you’d really enjoy it,” he said. “It’s a studio where you can paint little wooden signs to hang around your home. I’ve never been, but I think you’d love it. A few of my mates have gone and said they love it, especially for date nights. Would you care to see if they have any sessions this week?”

“Hmmm.”

James chuckled and kissed her one last time before pulling away. Rose shivered at the sudden lack of stimulation. Dazedly, she turned to James and saw him drop onto the sofa with his phone. He tapped away on it for a minute, then beamed. “There’s a session tonight! And there are a few empty slots. D’you want to go? Oh, even better! It’s a “pick your project” night, meaning you can choose whatever you’d like to paint. Which’ll be good for me, since I’ll have to find something simple. What d’you say? Sound like a date?”

He looked up at her and waggled his eyebrows. He looked so _goddamned sexy_ , slouched there on his couch with his legs splayed apart and his shirt riding up to reveal a tease of his belly and the waistband of his pants.

“Sounds perfect,” she said, her voice huskier than she expected. “What time is it at?”

“Six,” he answered.

Glancing at the clock, Rose bit her lip and asked, “What are we supposed to do for the next three hours?”

“Hang on,” he said distractedly, typing on his phone. “I’m signing us up. Can’t just walk in. Ooh, credit card information. Wallet. Need my wallet. Back in a tick!”

He vaulted up from the sofa, his lithe body sauntering away from her and to the foyer, where he’d dropped his keys and wallet. Rose unashamedly stared at his bum as he walked. He reappeared seconds later, still staring at his phone as he plopped once more onto his couch.

He had to be the most oblivious, idiotic genius Rose had ever known.

Rose continued watching him, approaching until she was standing right in front of his knees. It took another couple of minutes, but James finally looked up from his phone, a pleased expression on his face. His smile slipped and his eyes darkened when Rose took his phone from him and set it on the coffee table behind her.

“I asked, ‘what are we supposed to do for the next three hours?’,” she repeated, placing one knee on the cushion beside him. She reached behind him to rest one of her hands on the back of the sofa for balance.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and she noticed with a thrill of satisfaction that his eyes kept darting down to her chest, where she was aware that the front of her shirt had dipped a bit low, giving him quite the show.

“I… I think I have an idea,” he squeaked. He cleared this throat. “I mean, I know what I’d like to do, to pass the time.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, arching a brow. “And what’s that?”

He met her gaze, and she tried to tell him without words that she was completely on board with this little game of theirs. He must have seen it, because he rested his hands on her hips and _tugged_. She swung her other leg up to rest her knee on the cushion on his other side, straddling him.

“Great minds think alike,” she whispered, before she ducked down and pressed her lips to his.

His hands went to her hair to hold her closer, though they didn’t stay there for long. His fingers skated down her neck, down her chest. He just barely brushed his fingertips along the sides of her breasts, making them tighten, but continued down her sides to her hips. All the while, his lips and tongue met and parted with hers.

His hands dipped beneath her shirt to explore the planes of her back and sides. His fingers bit into her skin every now, usually coupled with a soft moan that turned her insides molten.

She shivered and pressed closer to him when one of his hands settled on her bum, squeezing and massaging. When she rubbed up against something firm behind his zipper, he hissed and dropped his other hand to her arse to pull her into him.

Rose broke the kiss then, her body flushed and overheated, craving _more_. James’s cheeks were crimson, his eyes glazed. He blinked a few times and dropped his hands away from her bum.

“Everything all right?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… I want…”

She bit her lip and, deciding not to think too much, reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Slowly, so slowly, she tugged it up her torso. She heard his breath catch when her stomach was revealed, then her breasts; she couldn’t remember what bra she’d donned that morning, and hoped it wasn’t one of her old ones that was ripped or frayed.

Unceremoniously, she dropped the garment to the floor then returned her attention to James. His mouth was parted slightly. She noticed with no small amount of smugness that his eyes were glued to her chest.

“You’re beautiful.” He took his eyes away from her chest to look up at her. “You’re _beautiful_.”

“Do you want to see more?”

He blinked up at her in confusion, and she snapped the strap of her bra in emphasis.

“Only… only if you want to,” he replied, though the hunger in his eyes spoke a resounding ‘yes’. However, she knew he wouldn’t be disappointed if she told him she didn’t want to take her bra off; that seemed to make her want to take it off even more.

She reached behind herself and deftly unhooked the clasp. James’s hands moved to help push the straps down her shoulders and arms, though the cups hid the majority of her breasts. Gravity finally pulled them down, and Rose felt her nipples tighten when they met the cooler air of the living room.

James was staring, eyes wide enough that Rose wanted to tease him that they’d fall out of his head.

His throat bobbed, then he blurted, “Blimey, they’re pretty.”

Rose couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. The sound snapped James out of his daze, and he blinked rapidly, cheeks pinkening.

“Sorry,” she wheezed, caressing his cheek. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.”

He grinned sheepishly. “That wasn’t my best line ever.”

“Not really,” she agreed, giggles finally subsiding. “But it was endearing. I’m glad you like ‘em.”

“They really are gorgeous,” he said, glancing down at them again. “Can I touch…?”

Rose took his hand in hers, and brought it to her chest. He swallowed thickly as his palm covered her breast, squeezing gently. She hummed and arched her chest closer to him. His other hand joined its mate, exploring her other breast just as thoroughly.

He released them after a few short seconds, but before she could be too disappointed, his mouth covered one of them instead.

“Jesus!” she gasped, partly in surprise, partly in pleasure as his hot, wet mouth covered her nipple.

His tongue drummed across it, flicking the pointed peak and circling around and around. She buried her fingers in his hair, encouraging him to keep his mouth where it was. He eventually turned his attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as its twin.

Rose let herself bask in this selfish pleasure, enjoying his ministrations and the small noises he let out as she rocked her hips against his burgeoning erection. It was difficult for Rose to get any direct stimulation through her jeans, but she knew he could certainly feel it, so she continued rubbing against him.

Minutes or hours later—Rose couldn’t tell—James pulled his mouth away from her breasts. Delicately cupping her cheeks, he pressed a kiss to her lips that was far too chaste for the activity they were in the middle of.

“Can you scoot back a bit, love?” he asked.

There was that word again. _Love_. She found she really, for lack of a better word, _loved_ that term of endearment.

However, her thrill upon hearing it was muted by the disappointment that James wanted to stop for the day. She sat back on his thighs and couldn’t help but glance down at the front of his jeans, where a very prominent bulge was tenting the fabric. She clenched her hands into fists to keep from touching him.

James leaned forward a bit, and Rose was confused, since he’d wanted her to move away, but then she realized he was grabbing for the hem of his own shirt. He fumbled with the fabric, cursing. He squirmed and struggled before he triumphantly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

 _Holy fucking hell._ For such a skinny bloke, he was _strong_. He wasn’t ripped with muscle, but he certainly wasn’t just bone. His muscles had a slight definition to them, and they flexed subtly with his movements. His chest was broad and covered with a light smattering of hair. Rose couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and running her fingers through it, scraping slightly.

He shivered, nipples puckering. Smirking to herself, Rose trailed her hands across the planes of his chest then down around his nipples, tracing her fingernail around it, hardening the little bud further.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she teased, winking at him. “I’m never letting you put a shirt back on.”

He puffed up at the compliment, and Rose beamed.

Not wanting to break their progress but desperately wanting more, Rose asked, “How are you doing?”

He blinked, cocking his head to the side.

“Are you… comfortable? With what we’re doing?” she clarified. “With our current level of nakedness?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “We’re not even that naked, though. But yes, this is wonderful, perfect, brilliant, more than okay…”

“Would it be all right,” she interrupted, “if we—if _I_ —went a bit further? I would like to take my jeans off, if you’d be comfortable with that. You don’t have to take yours off…”

“Yes,” he blurted. “God, yes. Most brilliant idea in the world. Up you get!”

Rose laughed at him, but gave him a quick kiss to soothe the small pout. On unsteady legs, Rose stood and began undoing her jeans. On the couch, James yanked the button open and zipper down, then lifted his bum from the cushions and wiggled his jeans down his hips before he held his legs up in the air to grab the denim. She was absolutely mesmerized but the flexing of his abs.

She was then distracted by the very prominent erection poking out the front of his boxer-briefs. There was a tiny little wet patch near the tip, and the sight of it made her stomach coil deliciously.

She hurriedly stepped out of her jeans, aware of James’s eyes raking up and down her body.

“You’re gorgeous, Rose. And dead sexy.”

Slowly climbing into his lap, Rose stifled a groan at the feel of so much of his skin rubbing against hers. Goosebumps prickled across her body, culminating in a full-body shudder when James wrapped his arms around her waist.

He let out a small grunt as he pulled her to his chest, pressing their fronts together. Rose scooted impossibly closer until she settled the front of her knickers to the front of his pants, pressing against his erection.

“ _God_ ,” he bit out, fingertips digging into her lower back.

“Okay?” she asked, even though her head was spinning at how close they were and how good he felt. 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah. It’s a lot. Just… give me a minute?”

“Take all the time you need,” Rose whispered, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his middle. “This feels amazing.”

“Does it?” he asked.

“Doesn’t it feel good for you?”

“Yes, of course,” he answered. “But… I just… I feel a bit stupid. I’m half naked with the love of my life in my lap, more aroused than I’ve ever been, and I’m taking pleasure from merely… _hugging_.”

“Oi, don’t knock it. Hugging’s great. Releases all sorts of hormones and things, yeah?”

“Hmmm.” He tucked his nose into the side of her neck and breathed in deeply. “God, you smell good. I love you, Rose. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “More than anyone. More than you know.”

James hummed, his chest vibrating beneath her. He turned and kissed her forehead. Then he threaded a hand through her hair and guided her head off his shoulder and to his mouth, catching her lips in a deep, searing kiss.

Moaning, she opened her mouth for him, letting his tongue skate along hers, flicking at the roof of her mouth. He held her tightly to him as he kissed her, keeping one hand tangled in her hair while the other made long, lazy lines across her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Her hands were busy mapping out any inch of him she could reach, from his pecs to his abs to his hips. He gasped her name when her fingers scraped the skin of his hips just above the waistband of his pants.

He pulled his mouth away from hers and gulped in greedy lungfuls of air. His body was tense, trembling. He took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips to kiss the backs of her knuckles before he guided their hands to the space between them, hovering a centimeter above his clothed erection.

“Rose, I… I’d like… I want you to touch me. If that’s okay.”

Her heart squeezed. Most blokes shoved her hand right onto their cock and went back to sticking their tongue down her throat.

She would gladly touch James’s cock for his sheer politeness in asking.

Kissing him, she asked, “Over the pants or under?” At his hesitation, she said, “Either answer is okay. I promise. What do you want? Don’t think, just feel. What do you _want_?”

“U-under,” he stammered. “If- if that’s…”

She interrupted him by slipping her hand beneath the waistband of his pants. She wished she could peel them off of him, work out in the open, but he hadn’t initiated that nakedness, so she wouldn’t ask for it. Instead, she adjusted the angle of her wrist, and in doing so, brushed against the hard, hot length of him.

He hissed, hips jumping slightly. He outright moaned when she wrapped her fingers loosely around his erection. She didn’t move though, not wanting to completely overstimulate him; instead, she gradually learned the feel of him, the texture, weight, and length.

James was utterly tense beneath her, his body wracked with tremors and shivers. When the worst of them subsided, she caressed her thumb across him, beneath the head and across that sensitive ridge that made his hips stutter.

Finally, after many long seconds of motionlessness, Rose began to move her hand. He arched beneath her, into her touch, a rumbling groan clawing its way from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound made her insides clench, and she bit her lip to keep her own whimper in.

His hands tightened around her hips, his fingertips biting into her skin so deliciously. Rose focused on all the noises he made, on the motions of her hand and fingers that made him arch into her. She catalogued what he seemed to like best and made sure to repeat those movements as often as she could.

She knew it wouldn’t be much longer when he began pulsing and throbbing in her hand. She tightened her grip around him, drawing a strangled cry from him.

His eyes popped open. “Rose, I… I’m…”

“Let go,” she whispered, and she leaned down to brush a line of kisses along his cheek. When her lips were at his ear, she breathed, “Come for me.”

His entire body was shaking apart beneath her. His hips shifted restlessly and his hands gripped her waist with near-bruising force. He dropped his forehead onto her collarbone and whined, a grunt and a groan following soon after as wet warmth spilled across her fingers.

A hot zing of desire and pleasure rippled through her. The simple act of seeing and feeling and hearing him come from her touch brought her such a deep sense of satisfaction she’d never felt before. How was she taking such pleasure from his pleasure?

She closed her eyes to better enjoy the little sounds he was still making. When his body stopped trembling, he slumped into her, boneless. She carefully withdrew her hand, surreptitiously wiping it clean on the side of his messy pants. She cradled his head to her shoulder, running her fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing the top of his head.

He shivered and wrapped his arms around her waist. He splayed his palms across her back, moving them lazily along her spine.

“That was… thank you,” he murmured, sounding sleepy. “That was amazing.”

“I’m very glad you enjoyed it,” she said, swelling with pride. “I loved doing that.”

“Can I reciprocate?”

“You don’t have to,” she said softly, continuing to pet his hair.

“I want to,” he insisted, lifting his head from her shoulder. His cheeks were a dull, beautiful pink and his eyes were bright and shining. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Biting her lip, Rose nodded. She was positively _aching_ with desire, her appetite whetted from his pleasure. As much as she enjoyed making him come, she herself wanted to find release, and soon.

His hand dipped tentatively beneath the waistband of her knickers, and she stilled in anticipation. His fingers explored her slowly, tracing through her pubic hair and gliding over her center seam. She moaned and rocked her hips into his hand, wanting more, needing more.

He willingly obliged. A bit too willingly, however. As good as his touch felt, he was a tad overeager and rubbed directly across her clit with the entire pad of his finger. She squealed and jerked her hips away.

James’s eyes widened in alarm and he yanked his hand out of her pants. “Sorry, I’m sorry! Oh, no. Bollocks…”

“S’okay,” she assured, rubbing his chest soothingly.

“What happened? What did I do wrong?” He looked mortified.

“Not _wrong_ exactly,” Rose said. “Just a bit too… enthusiastic.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“When I touched you,” Rose explained, “I didn’t just… go right in. I sort of… held you for a bit. Then gradually started moving my hand, but I tried to keep it light. I don’t think it would’ve felt as good if I’d gone right in with a tight, fast fist, eh?” 

“Probably not,” he conceded with a sheepish smile.

A sudden thought struck Rose. “Er… you, er, you know what a, er, clitoris is, right?”

“Of course I do,” he spluttered, his voice a few octaves too high. “I’m not a _complete_ idiot.”

“Only a partial one?” she teased.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then lowered his gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t quite realize, er, where my fingers had gone. And I guess I didn’t realize how sensitive you would be. Can I… can I try again?”

“Please do,” Rose said.

He stuck his hand down the front of her pants and began his explorations anew.

“Tell me what you like,” he said. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”

“Honestly, you were doing brilliantly right up ‘til the end,” Rose breathed, rolling her hips into his hand. “Try- try the edges of my… Direct contact is, er, a bit too much usually. At least at first. But the sides feel great.”

He nodded. He repeated the same path his fingers had been on a minute ago, searching and gliding through her lazily. Gentle pleasure thrummed down her spine and she arched into his touch. He trailed his fingers up and down, gathering her wetness and spreading it as he went. She shivered as his fingertips bumped her entrance, barely dipping in before retreating to start the circuit anew.

She ducked her head and caught his lips in a frantic kiss as the pressure in her stomach clenched. She was almost tempted to place his fingers exactly where she wanted them, but she also wanted him to take his time and be comfortable with touching her. Besides, she knew from her own private ministrations that a slow build up would eventually lead to a fantastic orgasm.

“Love this,” she mumbled against his lips. She threaded her fingers through his hair and dominated the kiss. He hummed beneath her. “Love you. This feels so good, James.”

As he kissed her, his hand never once faltered. When he approached that swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves, she was ready for it. He rubbed the edge, just as she instructed, and this time… _Oh_ , this time… 

“Fuck,” she rasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He paused, so she said, “Do that again.”

He did, sending another frisson of pleasure through her.

“Feels amazing,” she hissed. “Keep doing this.”

He obliged, but explored the other side of her clit too, looping up and over and down the other edge. Her thighs began trembling as spark after spark of pleasure settled low in her gut.

After a moment, he took his fingers away from her clit. Before she could protest, he slipped them down an inch. Realizing his intent, she sighed, “ _Yes_.”

Steadily, unhurriedly, he slipped his middle finger inside of her. She moaned and ground down on his hand, clenching around his finger.

“More,” she begged. “Please.”

He nodded and dragged his finger out of her to add a second. She groaned as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered, leaning forward to nip at her collarbone. 

The sting of his teeth followed by the wet pass of his tongue sent new shivers down her spine. He kissed and bit his way along her collarbone and up her neck. She cursed when he latched his lips to the sensitive spot below her ear and _sucked_.

“Shit, James,” she gasped, urgent. She was trembling, body tensing, toes curling for the imminent release she was hurtling towards.

“I want to see you, Rose,” he mumbled into her neck. “I want to feel you. I want to share in your body and explore every beautiful inch of you. I want to kiss you and taste you and touch you. I want to know what it feels like to be inside you, to feel you coming around me. I want to know all the noises you can make. I want to feel your body pressed to mine, heartbeat against heartbeat. I want it all, and I want it with you.”

How the _fuck_ did he make something so sweet sound so sexy?

Her stomach swooped deliciously, and she knew this was it. As he curled his fingers in and out of her, his palm rubbed her clit so perfectly that it was enough. More than enough.

She rolled her hips to take his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper… Her entire body was shaking, trembling apart as the pressure mounted, coiling tighter and tighter until…

“Oh, God, _yes_!”

His name left her lips on a breathy exhale as release shattered through her. Heat and pleasure zipped up her spine in an intense rush that took her breath away. She arched against him, grinding unashamedly into his hand as her fingers fisted into his hair. He murmured something into her neck, but she couldn’t make out the words through the roaring in her ears.

She was _flying_. She was soaring through oblivion, unaware of anything but _how bloody good_ she felt, how weightless her body had become. She wanted to be lost in this haze forever with him. Always with him. Only with him.

Black spots pulsed behind her eyes, blurring her vision when she opened her eyes. His cheeks were flushed and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips. She cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up to catch his lips in a frenzied kiss. She tried to pour every ounce of love and gratitude into the kiss.

Her skin was singing and she moaned into his mouth as aftershocks rippled through her. His fingers were still inside of her but unmoving as her muscles gave a few final, feeble pulses. Her breathing was ragged when she popped her lips away from his.

He took that as his cue to carefully slip his fingers out of her, discreetly wiping them clean on his pants. He then wrapped his arms around her, urging her to slump forward. She didn’t need convincing; she snuggled into his chest, utterly content to stay in his lap forever. His heartbeat was strong, and the sound and feel of it soothed her.

She drifted in and out of wakefulness for several long minutes while her breathing and heart rate relaxed back to normal. He lulled her further into tranquility by rubbing long, slow strokes up and down her back.

“Hey, Rose?” She peeked up at him, forcing an eye open. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

She smirked lazily. “Thank _you_. That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed. “Way more fun than my own hand.”

She snorted. “Glad to be of service.” She kissed his collarbone. “And look at us. We passed the time quite well. How much longer ‘til we need to go?”

“Er… an hour?” James guessed.

“Mmm, good,” she said, snuggling deeper into his arms. “I could stay here forever.”

“Me too,” he whispered, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Are you hungry? We can eat something before we have to go.”

“That would require moving.”

He laughed. “True. But I wouldn’t want you wasting away in my arms.”

“I’m still full from lunch. I’ll have a snack later tonight. For now, I want to just sit here with you. Is that all right?”

He tightened his hold around her. “Always.”

And so they sat there until the last possible minute before they had to leave for their date, basking in the afterglow, and in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter. Comments from you all are the sweetest hit of serotonin and they really make me the happiest camper on the campground <3
> 
> Next update: July 8th
> 
> Also, since AO3's email notifications seem to be working again, consider subscribing to this story or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose celebrate New Year's together, and come to an agreement about things.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~8100
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, sorry for the short delay with this chapter. I recently bought myself a PS4 and have been unable to be motivated to write/edit. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Over the next several days, James and Rose spent nearly all of their free time with each other. Their date night at Board and Brush had been wonderfully entertaining, and Rose laughed herself hoarse at James’s poor attempts at painting. She used his inexperience as an excuse to teach him, sitting far closer than necessary to help guide his hand or to demonstrate on her own board.

By the end of it, James had painted a simple “Welcome” sign decorated with spring flowers and grasses, while Rose painted a wall-hanging coat rack with the words “It’s good to be home” traced in a flowing script.

After their successful date night—wherein James had footed the bill—Rose asked if they could do something for free for their next date. The trouble with that was that it was wintertime, and many free activities tended to be outdoors. James eventually had the idea to visit SteelStacks, a museum of sorts on the southside of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania dedicated to preserving the history of the steel mills the area had been known for throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The old mill was still standing and offered tours, providing information and insight about what had been the “economic lifeblood”—in the words of the informational plaques—of the area.

“In recent years, this area has been trying to revitalize the arts,” James said. “Each August, they host an event called Musikfest. We’ll have to attend this summer. I went a few days last year and it was so much fun. The music is great, even if some of the bands and artists aren’t well known. Sometimes they’ll get popular groups in too.”

“Sounds like fun,” Rose said, hugging his arm to her chest as she listened to him tell her more information about the area. He was much more fun to listen to than reading the signposts.

In addition to exploring the surrounding areas, they also spent quite a bit of quiet down time together. There were no more intimate moments shared, to Rose’s slight disappointment, but they kissed and cuddled, both in her flat and in James’s home. 

At first Rose worried that James regretted what they’d done on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to be shying away from her, nor did he appear uncomfortable. On the contrary, he took any chance he got to touch her: innocent touches to her back, holding her hand, curling his arm around her waist.

Still, Rose wanted— _needed_ —to be sure.

“Did you like what we did together a few afternoons ago?” Rose asked as they did the dishes after dinner one evening. They were at her apartment, testing out her slow cooker with a beef stew recipe James liked. The stew had been a smashing success, and had made enough leftovers for a week’s worth of meals; she ended up freezing half of them.

James glanced over at her from where he was washing out the slow cooker pot. 

“You mean… er…” After drying his hands, he pointed to his crotch, then made a crude hand gesture.

Rose laughed out loud. “Yes, that.”

“Of course I did,” he said, vaguely affronted. “Why do you ask? You enjoyed it too, right?”

“Absolutely,” she said, slinging her arm loosely around his hips and pressing her cheek into his shoulder. “It’s just… we haven’t, er, done anything else since. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

James’s cheeks and ears flushed red. “Oh. Er. Did you want to do… more? You’re going to need to direct me a bit. I’m not sure how often we should be, er, doing things like that.”

“As often as we want,” Rose said, shrugging. “Whenever the mood takes us there. We don’t exactly have a quota or anything to meet, y’know.”

His face was still scarlet. “I don’t… I don’t know what to expect. What we did on the couch was incredible. And it was better than anything I ever felt before. I would love to do something like that again, but at the same time, it was overwhelming. That’s not to say I didn’t love it. Because I did. But it’s like… I need time to process. And to prepare. I’ve _never_ felt like this, Rose. It’s like my body isn’t my own anymore. It’s doing whatever it wants. I constantly want to touch you, and to have you touch me. And I’m not talking intimately, but just…” He ran his fingertips up and down her arm, then wormed his hand into the sleeve of her jumper to touch bare skin. Goosebumps rose the hairs on her arms, and she nearly shivered. “Just like this. You don’t know how wonderful this feels. How _intimate_ it feels. I feel stupid for admitting that.”

“You’re not stupid,” Rose insisted. “That feels good to me too, you know. I like being touched by you.”

“I want to touch you all the time, Rose,” he repeated. “And that’s a little scary for me. I don’t want to be afraid of wanting you. No, afraid isn’t the right word. But it’s… it’s weird. Most people figured this out as teenagers, and I feel so far behind the curve, you know?”

She didn’t, but she could sympathize, so she nodded.

“And…” James dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes. “I’ve never _craved_ sex. I mean, obviously I want it. With you. But it’s just that: a want. It’s not a need. I know that sex is technically a want for everybody since nobody can die from lack of sex, but you know how some people have that hot and heavy _“I must have you now against this wall_ ” feeling merely from looking at an attractive person? I don’t feel that. I’ve never felt that. You’re beautiful, Rose. I’ve thought you were beautiful since I first saw you sitting behind me in class. But my first desire was to talk to you. To get to know you. To be your friend. Not to rip your clothes off and shag you in the nearest loo. And I feel so _alien_ because of this. But recently, there have been times when I look at you and I’m struck by how much I love you, and I want to kiss you and touch you so badly that it feels like a physical ache. And that’s a weird, new feeling for me.”

He began speaking faster and faster until Rose finally rested her palm on his arm. Her heart broke for him.

“James, you don’t need to explain yourself,” she said gently. “You _never_ have to explain yourself. Not with this. I only wanted to know if you regretted what we’d done.”

“Never,” he said vehemently. “I am _honored_ to share my body with you, and that you trust me to share yours with me. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head into his neck. “If you ever change your mind about wanting sex, that’s okay. You can tell me. You know that, right? I fell in love with _you_. Not your body. Even if it’s years down the road. If ever you decide you don’t want to have sex anymore, tell me. It’s okay.”

“I really appreciate that,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “I mean it. I… I feel so safe with you. You make me feel safe. You make me feel normal.”

Rose gave him a tight squeeze. “Nobody’s normal. Our relationship is perfect as it is. Don’t compare yourself or us to others. It’ll only make you unnecessarily self-conscious.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “A lot of this doesn’t even make sense to me. So I imagine what I rambled on about made little sense to you as well.”

“I got the general gist,” Rose promised. “I love you very much, James. Always remember that. I don’t care that you’re inexperienced. Just like I wouldn’t have cared if you’d been with hundreds of people before me. All I care about is that you love me and want to be with me.”

“I do,” he vowed. “Very much, I do.” He paused for a beat, then asked, “Can I ask you something? You’ve never spoken of anyone but Jimmy. Was he your only…?”

“No,” she said simply when it seemed he wasn’t going to finish his sentence. “He was my first serious boyfriend. And the one I lost my virginity to. But I dated casually before and after him. I had my first kiss at thirteen. Well. Technically I was six, I suppose.”

“Six?!” he spluttered.

Rose laughed. “Me and my best mate Mickey were playing house. Well. I was making him play house with me. I was adamant about our acting being legit. So whenever he entered the “house”, we’d kiss.” She laughed again, recalling the memory fondly. Her mother had flown into a rage when she realized Rose was kissing Mickey, which put an end to their game almost immediately, and led to Jackie giving her a watered-down version of “The Talk” right on the spot.

“But my real first kiss was with a boy called Derek,” Rose said. “He lived on the estate too, and we’d known each other for years. We decided to give kissing a go, to see what it was all about. We never dated, exactly, but we’d hang out, walk around town. He eventually wanted to, er, explore a girl’s body. I slapped him when he touched my boobs in the middle of kissing. We stopped spending time together after that.”

“That’s awful,” James said softly. “I’m sorry that happened.”

Rose shrugged. “There were a few other good boyfriends, but nothing serious. It was mostly figuring out kissing and flirting. I met Jimmy when I was sixteen. We started dating a few weeks later. I was with him ‘til I was nineteen.”

“Were there any after him?”

“Yeah. Again, very casual. I wouldn’t even call them relationships.” She stopped speaking then, wondering how to explain. “It was mostly physical. Just sex. No strings attached. Just… companionship and physical release.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“I wasn’t ready to open my heart up,” Rose said, somewhat defensively. “Jimmy turned me against relationships. Even with you… I tried for a while to ignore my feelings for you, you know. So the men I dated, I made sure they knew I wasn’t looking for a committed relationship. Funnily enough, men in their twenties are quite excited about having sex and not having a girlfriend.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” James asked.

“We’re already having quite the personal conversation,” Rose retorted dryly.

But James just stared at her until she nodded.

“What’s it like?” he asked softly. “Being able to have sex so… openly?”

Rose nearly told him he would never be able to understand, but he had tried to explain how his sexuality felt to him, so the least she could do was try to explain hers.

“It’s… it’s like… hunger, I guess,” Rose said haltingly. “Have you ever had a craving for a specific food? Like you get hungry and say “I could really devour some Chinese food”, then you go get Chinese food?”

He nodded, frowning.

“It’s sort of like that,” Rose said. “Most of the time I’m fine with masturbating. I’ve got enough toys to satisfy myself.”

He choked, making Rose smirk.

“I’ll show you my collection later,” she promised with a wink. His cheeks went even pinker, spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “But every now and then, I would crave something different. So I would hook up with a bloke. Most of the time, I already knew the person. He’d be a friend or acquaintance. I only hooked up with a stranger once, and I got lucky he wasn’t a creep. I realized how dangerous that could be and swore to myself I’d never do it again.”

Rose folded her arms across her chest, waiting for his reaction. But he simply nodded.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, kissing her temple. “And I don’t know if I made myself clear. I think my words came out wrong. I don’t care about your sexual history. I wasn’t judging you. I’m _not_ judging you. I hope you know that.”

“Thanks,” she said, relaxing muscles she hadn’t known were tense. It wasn’t as though she truly thought James would be disgusted with her relatively loose love life, but, well, sometimes people could be a bit rude.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I…”

“You didn’t,” she promised. “Really.”

James didn’t look convinced. “I would never judge you for…”

“James, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I know you didn’t have any ill intent. You’re too sweet to be an arse.” She winked and bumped her hip into his. “Well, not on purpose, at least.”

He cracked a small smile, and they let the subject drop.

oOoOo

The night of December thirty-first arrived, which found James and Rose catching an Uber to Jack’s house for his New Year’s Eve party. He lived on the other side of town in a five-bedroom house that he rented with several other people. When James and Rose got there, the house, packed with people—mostly university students—was nearly vibrating from the heavy bass of the music being played.

James hadn’t been lying: Jack certainly knew how to throw a party. There was more food and alcohol than anyone would be able to consume, even with a house full of people. And the music was a wonderful mix of current hits and hits from the ‘90s and 2000s, creating a wave of nostalgia for all party attendees.

They attempted to pick through the crowd of people to find their host, but they were often sidetracked whenever James found someone he knew. Rose was certain that he was acquainted with every single person that attended their university. After yet another 5-minute chat with what had to be the dozenth person, Rose finally spotted Jack doing shots with a small group of people.

“I’m gonna say hi,” she said into James’s ear. “Jack’s over there.”

He made a distracted noise as he continued speaking to a group of people he’d taken a maths class with.

As Rose weaved through the people, she locked eyes with Jack, who beamed and met her half way across the room.

“Rosie!” He threw his arms around her waist, missing the way she flinched at the nickname. “Glad you could make it! I saw you and James arrive, but I couldn’t get away to say hello. It seems you two couldn’t get away, either. He’s quite the social butterfly, isn’t he?”

“I think he knows all the residents in the county,” Rose joked.

“I hope you’ve helped yourself to food and booze. There is a toilet down the hall and one up the stairs. All bedrooms are locked, so don’t even think about slipping away for a quickie with your boyfriend.”

Her cheeks went hot and she spluttered. “We wouldn’t…!”

“Aha!” Jack crowed. “You _are_ dating! I knew it! When did that happen?”

Rose gaped wordlessly for a moment, then smiled, chagrinned. “Right after term ended.”

“You know, I thought there had been something going on between the two of you when I met you at Thanksgiving,” Jack said.

“Nah. Just friends. Good friends, but just friends.”

“Friends who wanted more,” Jack said, waggling his eyebrows. 

Rose snorted. “Obviously.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. You make a very cute couple,” Jack said.

“Thanks,” Rose said, grinning.

“He’s a _phenomenal_ kisser, isn’t he?” Jack said dreamily. “I’d like to say I taught him everything he knows, but, well, he seems to have a bit of raw talent in that department. Hopefully that translates through to the bedroom, eh?”

But Rose’s brain had come to a standstill. “You… you’ve kissed James?”

Jack blinked, his face leaching of all color. She could see the gears whirling frantically behind his eyes as he tried to backtrack. “Well, maybe once or twice.”

Rose frowned and crossed her arms, needing much more information than that.

“It- it doesn’t mean anything,” Jack insisted. “It _didn’t_ mean anything. He’s not… I mean, he’s with you. A woman. So obviously he goes for women. Our kisses were more for fun than anything. You know, you get curious so you try it out, and that doesn't mean you enjoy it or anything, and…”

“I know he’s bi,” Rose said, cutting off Jack’s ramblings.

He slumped, shoulders slackening as he exhaled a huge breath. “Oh thank God. You could have said so sooner! I was terrified I’d accidentally yanked him out of the closet!”

“I’m more curious about why you were kissing him,” Rose said, pinning Jack with a glare she’d seen her mother use. “I’ve heard… _things_ about you Jack. And I’m not at all judging. I don’t care about your love life. Shag whoever you want. But if you were messing him about… if you _played_ him…”

“We dated,” Jack finally blurted. “Well, sort of.”

“How do you ‘sort of’ date?”

“James started wondering if he might be gay his first year here,” Jack said. “He and I had hit it off quickly as friends, and he told me some things. The short of it is that he didn’t know if he wasn’t experiencing sexual attraction because perhaps he didn’t like women. I explained what it was like for me, liking men and women, but he said he never felt anything like that. I was single at the time, and so was he, so we made a sort of… arrangement. To let him try out dating a guy. We only lasted a couple weeks, nothing serious. We parted amicably and have been good friends ever since.”

Rose nodded, relieved. “You’re a good friend to him, Jack.”

“And yet here you were, about to chop my bollocks off thinking I’d taken advantage of him,” Jack teased.

“Can you blame me?” Rose asked with a shrug. “His life has been hard enough as it is.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I can’t imagine the kind of flak he’s gotten for being an incredibly attractive man who isn’t interested in sex. Well, at least not until recently, I assume.”

That wasn’t exactly what Rose had meant. But then she remembered what Sarah Jane had said, about James not telling many people about his parents. Or at least, not going into the details.

Refusing to break James’s confidence, Rose merely nodded in agreement, then she left Jack—who was being pulled towards the dance floor by a rather handsome boy—to go find James. He was in the kitchen, loading a plate with food. He had one red Solo cup in the hand that was holding the plate, and the other between his teeth. He looked in dangerous peril of dropping everything. Rose hurriedly stepped up to him and took both cups.

“Where have you been?” James shouted through the din of music and conversation. “I got us some nibbles to share.”

“Was havin’ a chat with your ex-boyfriend,” Rose said, quirking an eyebrow at him.

James’s face blanched. He scratched at his stubbled jaw and seemed to splutter for an answer, before electing to keep his mouth shut.

“Why didn’t you tell me Jack was an ex-boyfriend of yours?” Rose asked curiously. “I mean, I get why you didn’t tell me when I first met him, but after you confessed to dating a few men, you could’ve said Jack was one of them.”

James turned his attention to the table and lifted a shoulder as he piled more food onto the plate. “Didn’t seem important. We were never serious. I, well, I wasn’t sure if perhaps I was attracted to men and not women. Since Jack was a bloke and a friend and was single—a rarity, for him—he let me… well, that’s to say… we gave dating a try. To let me sort of… explore my sexuality.” He snorted ruefully. “Or _lack_ of sexuality.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Jack said, too,” Rose said.

“I’m so glad he’s nattering on about my love life,” James muttered.

“He meant well,” Rose said gently. “We were chatting, and he let slip that you and he had kissed before.” In an attempt to wipe the frown off his face, she added, “He complimented your kissing skills. Said you had _raw talent_.”

It worked. A smile tugged at the corner of James’s mouth.

“And I’ll have you know, I was defending your honor,” Rose said, knocking her hip against his. “Wanted to make sure Jack hadn’t broken your heart. That’s when he explained the nature of your relationship.”

James chuckled. “Dunno if it could even be called a relationship. We kissed sometimes and hung out together.”

“You know, that’s kind of what we do too,” Rose noted. “And you call us a relationship.”

James rolled his eyes. “It’s vastly different. For one, I’ve seen you _naked_.” He grinned goofily. “Well, nearly naked. And secondly, we’ve given each other orgasms. Never given an orgasm to anyone before. It’s quite fun. And thirdly, I’m actually in love with you. I was fond of Jack, and I’m still fond of him. But no romantic feelings ever came about. We’re friends. He’s one of my best friends. But we absolutely weren’t compatible for a relationship.”

“I can see why,” Rose said dryly. James stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m glad things didn’t work out with Jack. I really lucked out with you.”

James preened, looking so radiant that Rose couldn’t help but lift onto her toes and kiss the corner of his mouth.

They spent the rest of the evening wandering through the house, dancing, socializing, eating, and drinking. Rose made sure to watch her alcohol consumption so she didn’t get completely drunk, but allowed herself to get pleasantly buzzed.

James, it turned out, was a great dancer. She should have known, what with his lean, flexible hips and his long, graceful body. It was a struggle to not start grinding lewdly against him in time with the beat.

The anticipation of the party-goers ramped up with every passing hour, until it was nearly time for the countdown. James and Rose were leaning against the countertops in the kitchen, having moved on to water by that point in the evening.

“One more minute!” someone shrieked from the living room. “And a great big _fuck you_ to 2016!”

This proclamation was followed by a roar of drunken laughter. James himself snorted. “This year wasn’t great, but at least it ended nicely.”

“Because Trump lost the election?” Rose asked innocently.

“Pfft, why would I care about American politics? I was obviously referring to Brexit not happening.” Rose rolled her eyes, and James’s smile softened as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You were the highlight of my year, Rose.”

“I hear you two pulled your heads out of your asses!” Jack sauntered over and slung his arms around James’s and Rose’s neck, a glass of something in each fist. They jolted apart. “So… did Rose finally pop your cherry?”

Rose’s cheeks warmed, and she saw James’s had gone scarlet as well.

“Well, no. Not yet,” James admitted. “Almost. Though honestly what is ‘virginity’ anyway? It’s a social construct, innit? Especially for males. And females too, but with them, there’s at least the anatomical hymen to rupture, but even that can rupture without intercourse. But what determines if a man is a virgin? I, along with a very large majority of the population, masturbate regularly and so I know what sexual pleasure feels like, so what is the difference between that and physically coupling with another person? And does it need to be a complete physical joining? ‘Cos Rose and I… on my couch… well, the details aren’t important, but if we both found our pleasure in each other, couldn’t that also count?”

The longer he spoke, the more heated Rose’s cheeks became. Jack looked increasingly amused until he burst into a loud cackle. The noise startled James enough that he snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, and he scrubbed his hand along the nape of his neck.

He glanced down at Rose and said, “I talk too much.”

“I’ve noticed,” she replied, patting his chest. She faced Jack and took one of the drinks in his hand. “I need this more than you right now, mate.”

Jack laughed again, relinquishing the drink. She knocked it back in one gulp as the countdown on the television and around the house began.

_10… 9… 8…_

“As riveting as this conversation has been—and believe me, I’m _dying_ to know what Rose has done to you, James—I actually came over to see if either of you two would want to share your midnight kiss with the handsomest bloke in the room?”

“Was already planning on it,” Rose said with a wink. Jack blinked, his eyes flicking to James, who had stiffened beside her.

 _Stupid boys_ , she muttered to herself.

_3… 2… 1… “Happy New Year!”_

Rose turned to James, who had an adorable pout on his lips. His eyes widened when she slung her arms around his neck.

“Happy New Year, James,” she said, before she rocked up onto her toes and planted a hard kiss to his lips.

He sighed into the kiss, his breath tasting like booze and all the snacks he’d consumed over the course of the night. She was sure hers didn’t taste much different or any better, so she opened her mouth for him, letting her tongue glide across his. She shivered at the sensation, and smiled when his tongue playfully flicked against hers, then to the backs of her teeth and the roof of her mouth.

She was vaguely aware of Jack wolf-whistling at them, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when James’s mouth felt so good against hers, when he wrapped his arms so tightly around her waist to press up against every inch of her.

The rest of the room dissolved away. She wasn’t aware of the cheering crowd or the boom of fireworks outside. It was just her and James in this moment, ending out the year and ringing in a new one together.

“Want to get out of here?” James murmured, breaking his lips away from hers. 

She nodded, and he pressed a parting kiss to her lips before releasing her.

They sought out Jack, who had wandered away to find his own midnight kiss. They interrupted long enough to tell him they were leaving. Thankfully, it only took a couple of minutes to procure an Uber—they must have beat the rush of departing partygoers. Soon they were being dropped off at James’s house, stumbling slightly from the lateness of the hour and the alcohol they’d consumed.

“D’you want to sleep with me?” James asked as they toed their shoes off by the front door.

Rose nearly choked.

Realizing how it sounded, James’s eyes widened. “Not for… Just to sleep? I… I made my New Year’s resolution. To stop holding back… stop wasting time. I love you, Rose. And I want everything with you. I want to be with you all the time and I would ask you to move in with me right now, but maybe that’s a bit too much, and I’m sure you signed a one-year lease to your flat so obviously you probably want to stay there as often as possible to get your money’s worth out of it, but know that I would very much be open to the idea of moving in together and…”

His words churned around in her head, getting warped and distorted amidst the hazy fog of drink and exhaustion. She leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips.

“I’m a bit too tipsy for this conversation,” she admitted. “I’d like to come back to it eventually though. But in the meantime, I would love to sleep with you tonight.”

His face lit up in a bright grin that made her knees feel weak.

After giving a bit of love to the two drowsy cats curled up on the sofa, Rose followed James down the hallway. They made a pitstop in the guest bedroom for her overnight bag, then continued to his bedroom. She’d been in it before, but it felt different this time. More intimate.

“I’ll, er, let you take the loo first,” James said, gesturing to the attached en-suite.

Rose hurried through her nighttime routine, though she took great care to brush her teeth and rinse with mouthwash. By the time she reopened the door to the bedroom, James was already in his pajamas—boxers and a t-shirt—and tugging down the blankets.

She took a moment to watch him. He moved gracefully, and his pjs left little to the imagination. His round bum was put on glorious display as he bent over the bed. She bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest to stop herself from going over and pinching it.

“All done,” she announced.

He whirled around to face her, and whatever he was about to say died in his throat as his eyes raked up and down her body. Her pajamas were simple, just a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt, but his glazed stare made her feel like they were the sexiest things in the world. Like _she_ was the sexiest thing in the world.

“Do you have a side you prefer?” she asked, gesturing to the queen-sized bed.

“Er… I typically take the left. But feel free to take whichever side.”

He then skated past her and ducked into the en-suite.

She sat down on the right side of the bed, but didn’t fully get under the covers yet. Instead, she glanced around the room, unabashedly taking it all in: the walls lined with bookcases, the pine wood dresser, the cherry wood nightstand, the photo frames scattered throughout.

Several of the photographs were of his cats, and several more were of him and his Aunt Sarah. There were even a few of herself, including the photograph of them standing in front of the Eastern State Penitentiary. But one in particular drew her eye. It was sitting on the topmost shelf of one of his bookshelves, and Rose stepped closer to better see it.

The photo contained three people: a woman with sleek auburn hair and vibrant blue eyes, a tall and lanky man with unruly brown hair and a smattering of freckles, and a young adolescent James standing between them. James was the absolute spitting image of his father, from his gangly body to his messy hair to his too-wide, manic smile. 

They were all beaming at the camera, their arms slung around each other, looking so joyous in that frozen moment. They looked so full of life and love that Rose’s chest cracked at the pain and loss and loneliness she knew was in store for that boy in the picture. 

“That’s one of the last photographs we ever took together.”

Rose jumped away from the bookcase. James was leaning up against the door frame, arms crossed at his chest.

“We were on holiday in Scotland, my half-term break,” he said. “We’d gone to the town where my mum grew up. At the time, I’d thought it was a boring place to travel to. Now, I wish I would have appreciated it more.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He gave her a brittle smile. “Me too.”

He pushed off from the door frame and slid into bed, patting the other side of the mattress in invitation. Rose slipped into bed beside him, and they pulled the sheets and blankets up. Before lying down, James flicked off his bedside lamp, dousing the room in darkness.

“It took months to track down copies of photographs of me and my parents,” James murmured in the dark. “After the fire, everything was destroyed. I had nothing. Aunt Sarah had a few things, anything my mum and dad had sent her over the years. She reached out to all of our family and friends, looking for anything. She managed to scrounge up a decent collection of photographs and videos, but so much was lost.”

Rose’s chest tightened. She couldn’t imagine not having memories to look back on. Her mother often took out old photo albums to look at Rose’s dad, and to share those memories with her. It wasn’t right that James couldn’t do the same thing.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, slowly scooting towards him to wrap an arm around his waist.

He groaned softly as he pulled her closer. She nuzzled her face into his collarbone and slipped a leg between his.

“Sorry, not trying to start anything,” she said when he stiffened. She pulled her leg away.

“No, no. That was okay. Sorry. And sorry if you, er, feel anything doing on down there. I’m not trying it.”

Rose let out a quiet giggle as she returned her leg to where it had been. Though she was dying to check, she made sure to keep her thigh away from his crotch.

“I love holding you,” he sighed into her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, suddenly so sleepy. “Happy New Year, James.”

“Happy New Year, Rose.”

oOoOo

Rose awoke slowly the next morning, her head in a fog. Her mouth was bone dry and tasted foul, and her temples were throbbing slightly. Not bad, as far as New Year’s hangovers went. Then again, she didn’t exactly get drunk.

She inhaled deeply and arched her body as much as she could while lying down, but her foot connected with something warm, soft, and long. She jerked her leg away and peeked over her shoulder. _James_. That’s right. She went to bed with James last night. Her heart squeezed as she beheld him. He was still asleep, his face utterly relaxed.

As delicately as she could, Rose rolled over onto her back, and then onto her side to better look at him. However, at the shifting in the mattress, his nose crinkled and he blearily opened his eyes. He blinked for many long seconds, clearing his vision and the haze of sleep.

“Mornin’,” he croaked. Then he smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I think a small animal died in my mouth.”

She giggled. “Mine too.” She leaned over, and despite their terrible breaths, pecked a gentle kiss to his lips.

He hummed and rested his hand on the nape of her neck, holding her where she was. She shuffled closer to him, deepening the kiss. However, James broke it a minute later.

“As much as I would love to continue this,” he said with a wince, “I _really_ need a wee.”

Rose laughed and moved away from him. He bolted out of bed and practically ran into his loo. She tried not to listen in, but, well, the walls were quite thin. He really _had_ needed to relieve himself quite badly, she noted.

That only reminded her of how much she had drunk the night before, and her bladder throbbed.

She waited until he had finished before calling out, “I’m gonna get a shower.”

“‘Kay.”

Rose grabbed her overnight bag and took it down the hall to the guest bathroom, letting James have his own shower. The shower worked wonders for her lingering headache and at freshening her up from the layer of sweat and grime from the night before.

James was waiting for her in the kitchen, a cup of coffee and a piece of toast already in hand. Rose easily worked around him to ready her morning cup of tea and her own toast. As she rooted through the fridge for the jam, she realized James was watching her intently.

“What?” she asked, straightening to walk to the toaster.

“Nothing,” he said with a small shake of his head. “It’s just… I love having you in my home.”

Rose smiled shyly. Suddenly, she remembered what he’d said last night. He seemed to recall it too.

“So. Er. About that,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Do you think you might one day want to live with me? I want to live with you. Already, I want to live with you.”

“I think I want to live with you, too,” Rose said, beaming when his shoulders loosened. “But I want to keep my flat at least ‘til the lease runs out. Though I don’t see us breaking up, I’d, er, I’d feel better knowing I still have that safety net.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Of course. I didn’t mean for you to barge into your flat’s leasing office tomorrow and tell them you’re moving out. I just meant that I would love it if you stayed overnight more often. Or I could even stay overnight at your flat. Then maybe when your lease expires, you could consider moving in with me.”

“My lease is up at the end of July,” Rose said. “Let’s revisit this conversation closer to then, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said again. “Brilliant.”

“I would very much like to stay overnight more often, though,” Rose added, realizing she never addressed that. “As often as you’ll have me. Your bed is quite comfy. And I guess your company is all right, too.”

He pouted, though the expression soon broke with a wide, face-splitting grin.

They leisurely ate their breakfast, then worked to start the preparations for dinner. James was making an Italian roast pork in a slow cooker, and it needed to cook for several hours.

They puréed fresh herbs and oil until it was a thick, green paste.

“It doesn’t look appetizing right now,” James said apologetically, “but I swear it tastes delicious when it’s done.”

“I trust you and your culinary skills,” Rose said, watching as he smeared the paste all across the pork shoulder.

James latched the lid of his slow cooker, then turned it on ‘low’ and set the timer.

“Done!” he pronounced. “Well, there’s not much else we can do. Would you like to go for a walk? The weather isn’t half bad, not once we get moving.”

Rose readily agreed; it had been ages since she’d gone outside for more than a few minutes, and she didn’t even want to think about how long it had been since she had gotten any sort of exercise. They donned their coats before stepping out into the brisk late-morning air.

She could practically feel her body thanking her for the vitamin D as she linked elbows with James and they began a leisurely stroll through his neighborhood. The streets were utterly empty of people and vehicles. They were passed by the occasional car, but for the most part, it was as if they had the world to themselves.

“There’s a cute little park not too far,” James said, nodding with his head down a little side street. “Care to see? It’s got a little duck pond.”

“Well of course I’ve got to see the duck pond,” Rose teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes and bumped his hip into hers. She hugged his arm tighter, resting her cheek on his shoulder as they walked.

The silence between them was light and comfortable. It still sometimes surprised her that she could be utterly at ease with being with James, content to not say anything at all. With Jimmy, she had always tried to fill the quietness with inane chatter, worried about him thinking she was dull or boring.

James guided them down a little dirt path into a forested area. Rose paused.

“It’s a pedestrian entrance,” James promised. “Cars can pull in farther up. I dunno about you, but I’d rather not hike that.” He pointed to the steep incline of the road ahead. “We can, if you’d like…”

“Nah, creepy wooded path it is.”

“It’s not creepy,” James sniffed.

“I’m fairly certain I watched a crime drama that started out like this,” she drawled.

He snorted. “Well, I’m here to ward off any attackers.”

“My savior,” she crooned, before pecking a kiss to his chilly cheek.

He hummed deep in his throat and gave her arm a squeeze as they continued down the path. Everything was eerily silent; even their footfalls were muffled by the hard-packed earth and dead, damp leaves.

“Feels like a fairytale,” Rose whispered. “Like we’re about to stumble upon a witch’s cottage.”

“Oh, didn’t I say? A witch owns the little duck pond. And all the ducks? People who couldn’t pay for her spells.”

Rose cackled, then tugged him to a stop.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I just want to take a picture,” she said, taking her phone out of her pocket.

James patiently waited until she’d snapped a few shots of the footpath they were on. Then she turned her phone on him and chirped, “Smile!”

He did, a broad, unrestrained grin that lit up his entire face and made her stomach flip over itself.

“Selfie?” she asked, opening her arm for him.

He eagerly skipped towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her in close. He pressed his cheek to hers and they both beamed. Then he pecked a kiss to her temple, and she quickly snapped that photo too.

“Shall we?” she asked, stuffing her phone into her pocket and gesturing forward.

He nodded and hooked his arm through hers once more and continued on.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the trees cleared and they stepped out onto a walking trail that looped around a clear, glimmering pond then extended down to a few sports fields and a huge playground.

Apart from one jogger, the park was utterly deserted.

“When the weather’s nice, this is a hot spot for the community,” James said. “Families and recreational sports teams are always playing here. People host events in that little pavilion.” He gestured to the little roofed area that housed rows and rows of wooden picnic benches. “And it’s got great walking paths.”

“And a duck pond,” she added.

“And a duck pond,” he agreed.

He dug around in his pocket, then unlinked his arm from hers to step up to a little metal dispenser filled with small brown pellets. She watched him stuff two quarters into the machine, then open up the bottom flap, where the pellets dropped into his waiting palm.

“Come feed the ducks,” he said over his shoulder, giggling like a little boy before jogging towards the pond.

Rose chuckled and ran after him until they were standing at the edge of the pond. There were several ducks and geese floating on the water; as soon as they spotted James and Rose, they began swiftly paddling towards them.

“Pavlovian response. They know that most people have food. And, well, they’d be correct.” He tossed a few pellets into the water, watching the birds dive for them. He extended his hand towards her, and she gladly took a few pellets and chucked them into the pond. “These ducks and geese stay here year ‘round. They get plenty of food from people who take walks in the park, and they can find shelter easily enough.” 

For a few silent minutes, they stood at the edge of the pond and fed the waterfowl. When there were only a few crumbs of duck food left, James dropped them at the edge of the pond and wiped his palm on the rear of his jeans.

“I think I’m ready to make love with you.”

For a moment, Rose was sure she’d misheard him. He had spoken as casually as if he was commenting on the weather. Surely he hadn’t said what she thought he said. No. He must have said something about how he was ready to go soon—it was chilly, after all, now that they weren’t walking. And a stiff breeze had picked up, rustling their hair and whistling all around them.

Yes, that was it. A trick of the wind.

James then began rocking onto his toes and back down on his heels, and she knew she had heard him correctly.

“Only… only if you want to,” he said quickly. “Just a thought. Wanted to get it out there.”

“You want to have sex?” she blurted indelicately.

His cheeks flushed a deep red that had nothing to do with the cold. His eyes darted from her to the ducks, who were lazily paddling away now that she and James had no more food for them.

He shrugged and said quietly, “Yeah.”

“Is this because of what Jack said?” she asked.

He finally met her gaze. “No. No, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And ever since that time on the couch…”

Her blood heated at the memory.

“That was brilliant,” he continued. “So, so brilliant. And it… it’s like it showed me a new piece of myself. One I hadn’t realized I possessed. I didn’t know how good someone else could make me feel; or how good it would feel to make someone else feel good. And I’ve been wondering why I’m denying myself this pleasure. Not only the physical pleasure, but the emotional pleasure. Being with you has made me the happiest I’ve ever been. And that night on the couch, I thought I might break apart with how much I love you.

“As I told last night, I want everything with you. I don’t want to hold anything back. And it’s okay if you’re not ready yet, or if this is too fast or too intense, but I… I needed to put this out there, so that you’re aware.”

Rose fell in love with him all over again. Nobody had ever said anything as sweet to her before. Jimmy had always said he’d loved her, but that was it. No other flowery words or declarations, and certainly no conversations about his feelings.

But James… He was vulnerable, and he trusted her to share in that vulnerability.

“I’m ready to make love with you, too,” she murmured, reaching out to take his hand in hers.

He offered her a small but genuine smile, his eyes lighting up with hope and happiness. They dimmed a moment later, though, as he grimaced and said, “That probably wasn’t the sexiest way to go about that. Sorry.”

He scrubbed his free hand along the back of his neck. Rose squeezed his fingers and said, “Are you kidding? Consent, respect, and communication are the sexiest things in the world.” When he looked dubious, she said, “They are! Besides, we’re not making out right now, nor are we drunk, so our judgement isn’t clouded. Which means we’re both actually, genuinely ready to fuck each other’s brains out.”

That seemed to break through his lingering haze of self-consciousness and embarrassment. He breathed out a laugh, and his entire body relaxed. He then tilted his head to the side, considering her. “Can I ask you something? Do you—God, I can’t believe I’m asking this—do you like it… rough? The phrase ‘fuck each other’s brains out’ has a certain connotation to it. It’s got me wondering how you, well, how you like it.”

Rose chewed on her lip, trying to push down the awkwardness. “Sometimes I like it rough. I have to be in the mood for it, though. And I’m sometimes in the mood for slow and tender. We’ll do that for our first time.”

“Not too slow. It’s been hard for me… since the couch.”

“It’s supposed to get hard,” she said with a wink.

“ _Difficult_ for me,” he amended, flicking her. She could barely feel it through her coat. “Difficult not to ravish you.”

“After tonight, I promise you can ravish me whenever you’d like,”

“Tonight?” he choked out.

She paused. “Er… too soon?

“No! Not at all. But… shouldn’t it be spontaneous? I feel a bit silly scheduling it.”

Rose laughed. “Believe me, it’ll be spontaneous, just not the way you think. Sure, we can plan to shag tonight, but that’s as far as the planning goes. Who knows how it’ll happen or what we’ll do as we’re doing it.”

“Will you stay over at mine tonight?” he asked.

“Kinda hard to shag if I go back to my own flat,” she drawled, knocking her shoulder into his.

“Could do phone sex,” he suggested.

She beamed. “We’ll have to try that later. But yeah, I’ll stay over tonight, and we’ll see what happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter <3
> 
> Next update: July 22nd
> 
> Consider subscribing to this story or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you've all been waiting for... 😘
> 
> Chapter Length: ~5500
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit 🍆😉

They left the duck pond and the park soon after, as the wind was picking up and the sun had disappeared behind thick clouds. Rose hadn’t realized how much warmth the sun provided until it was gone. Soon she was shivering as she and James made their way back through the winding forested path and to his neighborhood.

More of his neighbors were out and about this time, and James greeted them all by name as he introduced her. She smiled and nodded, trying to keep her teeth from chattering as they made idle chit chat.

James, bless him, realized how cold she was getting and sped up the conclusion to the conversation.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said, ushering her into his warm home. The scent of their dinner wafted from the kitchen, making her mouth water. “I forget you’re not used to such cold winters. Can I make you a cuppa tea? Or cocoa? Cocoa’s always nice to dispel the chill.”

“Sounds great,” Rose said. “Could I borrow a hoodie or something?”

She was wearing a jumper, but it wasn’t all that thick or warm, and she was cold enough that it hardly put a dent in her shivering.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing to the hallway. “Help yourself to anything you need. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how cold you were.”

“I’ll warm up soon enough,” she said with a shrug, before she made her way to his bedroom.

There was something so intimate about being in his bedroom alone, especially since she didn’t feel like an intruder. She sifted through his closet for his thickest sweatshirt, and donned it overtop her jumper. Indulgently, she tugged the collar over her nose and breathed in the smell of him. It smelled fresh from the laundry, but it had his distinct scent woven into the fibers as well.

James was standing over the stove when she returned, carefully stirring a steaming pot. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing tightly. He hummed in acknowledgement, but kept his attention on the pot. A brown liquid was inside.

“Er…?”

“Cocoa,” he said. “Homemade recipe. None of that rubbish from a packet. Er. No offense, if you like the rubbish from a packet. But wait ‘til you try this. Made with real cocoa powder and milk.”

“Smells great,” she said.

He hummed again, and after a few more seconds of silence, he said, “Done. Ready to try the best hot cocoa in all of America?”

Rose giggled and leaned up to kiss the nape of his neck before she released him. He stepped over to two awaiting mugs and carefully poured the cocoa into them.

“Do you like whipped cream?” he asked, setting the now-empty pot in the sink.

At her nod, he went to his fridge and grabbed a clear plastic tub.

“You make your own whipped cream?” Rose asked curiously.

“Mhm. It’s quite simple,” he said absently, scooping a dollop of whipped cream into each mug. “Aaaaand some sprinkles for color. Done!”

He slid her mug towards her before enthusiastically taking a sip of his own cocoa. His nose came away caked with whipped cream. He went cross-eyed trying to look at it.

A wave of fondness crashed into her. This beautiful, wonderful, goofy man was all hers.

“I love you,” she said, smiling faintly.

He beamed at her and took another gulp of cocoa.

The cocoa did wonders at warming her up, enough that she didn’t need James’s sweatshirt anymore. Lamenting the loss of his scent, Rose tugged the hoodie off and draped it over a kitchen chair as they settled down to play a board game to pass the time until their dinner would be ready.

James seemed to make it his personal mission to introduce a new game to her each time they decided to play something. Today’s lesson was _Ticket to Ride_ , where they had to build train routes from various destinations all across the United States. James was ruthless, and would frequently block her routes so she either couldn’t reach her destination, or had to waste pieces going the long way ‘round.

“Y’know, most boyfriends would tactfully lose,” Rose said dryly.

“I’m not most boyfriends,” he preened.

“Hmmm. And here I was, considering giving you your first blowjob tonight.”

James’s hand spasmed, making him toss his pieces across the board. Rose bit her lip to keep from laughing and to keep her face as neutral as possible.

“But… I thought you wanted… I thought we’d be, y’know, going the whole way?” His face was bright red as he gathered his scattered trains and continued laying his route from Salt Lake City to San Francisco. 

“Was planning on stopping before you came,” she said baldly, just to see him splutter some more.

He blinked owlishly for the span of several seconds before saying, “Well then. Guess I won’t be going down on you either. Shame. I was wondering when I’d be able to put this tongue to good use.”

He flicked and wiggled his tongue at her in a way that instantly made her core clench. She was absolutely delighted that he was teasing her back, but it made her want to toss the game onto the floor and hop onto the table to let him have his filthy way with her.

“Shame indeed,” she rasped, clearing her throat.

He smirked at her and gestured for her to select her playing cards. As she did, she slouched further into her chair and reached her legs out towards him. He smiled when her foot knocked against his. She rubbed her foot across the length of his, before she dragged it up his shin and to his knee. His eyes flicked to her, but she kept her gaze resolutely on the game board.

Slowly, so slowly, she drew her toes along the inside of his thigh. His breathing hitched. She kept her toes at mid-thigh, giving him the chance to push her foot away. When he didn’t, she moved her foot to rest at his crotch.

His hips shifted, neither arching into her foot or away from it. She curled her toes experimentally, delicately, until she felt the vague, soft outline of him through his jeans. She allowed her toes to caress him gently, not putting too much pressure on him yet. She was rewarded with a low groan from him.

“This all right?” she asked, flicking her eyes to him.

He nodded, his gaze dark.

They continued that game like that, with Rose casually curling and rubbing her toes against his steadily hardening length. By the time the game was finished—with James managing to beat her soundly, despite his glazed expression and flushed cheeks—he was fully hard and straining behind his zipper, while Rose was _throbbing_ with need.

With one final, pressing caress of her foot to his crotch, she lowered her leg and stood to put the pieces away in the box. James sat there, dazed, before he scrambled to help. When she slipped the lid onto the box, James came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly. She could feel the hard press of him against her bum, and she couldn’t help but wiggle for him.

A low, choked moan issued from low in his throat. “ _Rose_.”

“Hmmm?”

Rather than answer, he spun her around, a little roughly but not unpleasantly until her bum hit the edge of the table. His lips crashed against hers, hot and frantic, as his hands immediately ducked beneath her jumper to scrabble at her bare back.

She rested her palm to his chest and gave him a small shove, pushing him back just far enough to give herself the necessary room to divest herself of her jumper. James seemed to take the hint and pawed at the hem of his hoodie, seemingly all thumbs as he tried to lift it up his torso. Rose reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor atop her jumper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he croaked, eyes raking all across her chest and belly. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

“You’re pretty foxy, yourself,” she said, breathing heavily as the heat between her thighs blazed hotter than ever.

“I want to touch you,” he said. His cheeks went pink. “ _All_ of you.”

Biting her lip, Rose leaned backward to pop open the button of her jeans.

“Fair’s fair,” she said, nodding to his trousers. “Off.”

Swallowing thickly, his hands mechanically went to his jeans and he yanked the button open and the zipper down. He wriggled his hips as he shoved the denim down his legs, finally stepping out of them.

“Your turn,” he croaked.

Tooth by tooth, she slid down the zip as well, then said, “I need a bit of help.”

His hands went to the waistband of her jeans, tugging futilely. Bracing herself on her hands and tightening her abdominal muscles, Rose lifted her bum a few inches off the table top. _Those years of gymnastics certainly paid off_ , she thought as she held herself up while James worked her trousers down her hips. When he’d gotten them to her thighs, she sat down on the table and watched him peel the fabric down her legs. He moved slowly, relishing every inch of her skin as it was exposed.

Finally, he worked her jeans completely off her legs, and he took her socks off while he was down there. Then he crouched and cradled her left foot in his hand. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle, then to the top of it before he moved to give the same treatment to her other foot.

Rose couldn’t deny how incredibly _hot_ it was to see James kneeling in front of her. Her pulse pounded between her legs and it took every ounce of restraint to not stick her hand down her knickers and give herself some relief.

As though he had all the time in the world, James kissed his way up her legs, massaging her muscles with his fingers as he went. She sucked in a sharp breath when he continued kissing his way up her inner thigh.

“Is this all right?” he asked, hearing the sound.

“Yeah,” she rasped, her voice cracking on that one word. “God, yeah.”

He smiled to himself, then continued his journey. His kisses grew bolder, harder, wetter; he laved his tongue along the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, then he bit it gently before soothing the slight sting with his tongue again.

“May I?” he asked, his voice strained.

That was when Rose realized his mouth had gone as far as it could go on her legs. He hovered between her thighs, pressing absent kisses to her legs as he waited for her answer.

“God, yeah,” she repeated.

He shivered slightly, and he went back to kissing her thighs, as though needing to regain the momentum he’d lost in asking for permission. She didn’t mind it though; she would happily let him kiss and nip at her legs as long as he wanted. Who knew thighs could be such an intensely sensual erogenous zone?

She couldn’t help the moan that bubbled out of her throat when he skated the tip of his tongue across the seam where her thigh met her hip. He licked a long, slow line up, then down, before he went to her other hip.

All the while, Rose’s legs trembled with the effort of staying still when every single nerve ending was alight with pleasure, craving more. His mouth finally moved to where she was wet and aching for him; he kissed her through her knickers, but it was enough for a surge of pleasure to zip down her spine, coiling low in her belly.

“Can I…?”

“Yes,” she panted, not letting him finish his sentence, not even caring what the end of that sentence was. 

His fingers tentatively brushed along her knickers, around her waistband and down the front and across the sides, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach this seemingly difficult task.

Rose licked her lips. “Do you… d’you want to take ‘em off?”

He blinked once. Twice. “Can I?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. Then she paused. “Er. Did you want to take this somewhere other than your kitchen table?”

“We can disinfect the table later,” he said, slipping his fingertips beneath the waistband of her knickers. Rose shivered at the touch. “May I? Please?”

She lifted herself again so he could peel her knickers off. Her cheeks burned with mostly arousal, but also a bit of embarrassment as she was bared to him fully for the first time.

“God,” he murmured. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

He dropped her knickers then scooted closer to her, his shoulders wedged between her thighs.

“I want to taste you,” he said. His expression was dark, ravenous, and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. He lifted his gaze to look at her and his eyes were perfectly clear as he said, “If you want me to stop at any time, tell me.”

 _Not bloody likely_ , she thought, but she nodded anyway, then added, “Same for you. If you’re not enjoying it, you don’t have to keep going.”

He just waggled his eyebrows at her and began to kiss her. He kissed her softly, reverently, with his eyes closed and his face relaxed with pure, unadulterated joy. His lips teased her relentlessly, and she would have loved to have kept watching him, but, well, her vision went a little hazy when he began using his tongue.

“Bloody hell,” she hissed when his tongue slid through her in a broad, slow stroke that sent tingles across her skin.

“Like that, did you?” he mumbled, a grin evident in his voice. But he repeated the motion again and again and again until Rose was writhing on the table, trying not to thrust too much with his movements.

Her stomach clenched tighter when his tongue circled her clit, drumming across it lightly as he continued to kiss and taste her.

“James,” she gasped urgently when that rush of heat began to simmer at the base of her spine.

He hummed against her, causing the heat to flare. _Shit_ , he was good at this. Realizing how close she was, he doubled down on his efforts, the strokes of his tongue more deliberate than before.

Her hands shot to his head, twining through his hair for something to ground herself as her body grew simultaneously heavier and lighter. Hot chills began rippling across her skin as the pressure in her belly squeezed tighter, tighter, tighter…

She cried out a string of garbled curses as her release barreled down her spine, melting her bones and sending her hurtling into oblivion. Her hands fisted into his hair and a vague part of her brain hoped she wasn’t hurting him, but a larger, more important part cared about nothing but how _fucking good_ she felt.

When she came back to herself, she was vaguely aware that her hands were limp in his hair, caressing his scalp mindlessly while he kissed her lower belly and hips. He’d moved his hands so they were cradling the small of her back.

“Bloody hell,” she rasped, her pulse roaring in her ears.

He peeked up at her from between her legs and grinned.

She hauled him up for a hard kiss, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him. He whimpered as his hips aligned with hers, his clothed erection rubbing against her. He dropped his head to her shoulder.

“ _God_ , I want you,” he mumbled, trembling as he rocked his hips. “I want you so much, Rose.”

She shivered. “Me too. Let’s go to the bedroom for this next bit, yeah?”

He nodded wordlessly and, seemingly with great effort, stepped away from her. Rose allowed herself to look at him, naked except for his pants, though they hid nothing. His erection strained against the fabric, proudly standing at attention. 

He held out his hand for her as she slid off the table.

“Ready to go lose your virginity?” she chirped, slapping her hand into his.

He cackled and squeezed her fingers. “Absolutely.”

Merry and Pippin were sleeping on James’s bed when they entered his bedroom. He hurriedly shooed them off the mattress and out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Right, that’s the kids dealt with,” James joked, his voice suddenly anxious. “Er… speaking of… your IUD. Does that work straight away or will we need a…?”

“It’s already working,” she promised.

He nodded, then wrung his hands awkwardly in front of himself.

“We don’t have to do this,” Rose reminded.

“No, I want to,” he said. “But I’m a little nervous, is all.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re nervous about?”

“It’s sort of ridiculous,” he said, self-deprecating. “I’m a bit worried about my, er, stamina. Or rather, the lack thereof. I’d rather this not be over in ten seconds. And I want you to enjoy it. I’m nervous you won’t like it. Or it won’t feel good. Or that you won’t finish. And this is a purely egotistical and irrational worry, but I’ve no idea how I, er, _measure up_ against other, er…”

He let his sentence die off, his cheeks blazing red.

Rose came up beside him and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist. She nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about stamina. That gets better with time. I’ve already come once today, so if I don’t come again, it won’t be the end of the world. But if I don’t come, and if you’re so inclined, I wouldn’t be opposed to that tongue of yours getting back to work.”

She knocked her hip against his, grinning when he snorted out a laugh.

“And about measuring up…” Rose lightly rested her hand over top his clothed erection. “Remember, I felt you up quite thoroughly a few days ago. I was not at all disappointed by what I felt, so you can cross that fear right off your list.”

His lips pressed to the top of her head.

“Still want to do this?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Will you let me… can I take my pants off? Not that I’d be opposed to you doing it, but maybe for this first time, let me do it?”

“Of course,” Rose said. “I’ll go wait for you on the bed.”

She slipped her arm away from his hips, tugged down the blankets, and climbed into his bed, keeping her back to him longer than strictly necessary to give him whatever final privacy he wanted.

“Okay.”

Rose lounged against his pillows, mouth dry as she beheld him for the first time. Her vision zeroed in on his cock. She’d measured him in her mind when she’d gotten him off the other day, and her mental picture was spot on. He was perfectly average—not too long, not too short, not too thick, not too thin. Just right.

 _The Goldilocks of cocks… Goldicocks?_ Rose nearly began giggling at her train of thought, but she didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him, so with a herculean effort, she swallowed it down. Though she would have to share that thought with him later, when he didn’t look so self-conscious.

“You’re perfect,” she said simply, offering him a small smile.

He returned it, albeit a little shyly, then he walked towards her, his cock bouncing with his steps. Rose relaxed into the pillows and selfishly watched the flex of his body as he crawled onto the mattress. She let her legs fall open and stifled a laugh when his gaze darkened and immediately dropped to the apex of her thighs.

“C’mere,” she said, reaching for him.

He followed willingly, settling himself between her legs but keeping his weight off of her.

“You’re not gonna crush me,” she promised. “C’mere.”

She loosely hooked her legs around his hips and tugged, encouraging him to fall into her.

He sucked in a sharp breath when his hips met hers. The angle was slightly off, and his erection settled at the crease of her thigh and hip, but she didn’t care about that, not when so much of his body was rubbing along hers. Pleasant tingles rippled across her skin as his chest pressed to hers, his chest hairs teasing her nipples.

“I love you so much, James,” she told him, cradling his cheeks in her palms. “ _So much_.”

“Love you too,” he said faintly, his hips twitching as he tried—and failed—not to grind against her.

She pulled his face closer to hers to press a soft kiss to his lips. While he enthusiastically returned the kiss, his hands remained motionless, fisted as they were in the pillows near her head.

“You can touch me,” she hinted.

“Sorry. Lost track of my hands.”

She snorted, but it died on a sigh when he balanced himself on one forearm and used his other hand to play with her breasts. He squeezed and caressed them, giving each one their due turn, and flicked his thumb across her nipples.

“You can touch me,” he echoed, his voice teasing.

Rose realized her hands had fallen away from his face and were lying uselessly near her head.

“Smartarse,” she muttered, but she dutifully buried her fingers into his hair to yank him in for a hard and messy kiss.

He groaned into her mouth, his body arching into her for more. She scraped her nails across his scalp, then dropped one of her hands to trace the planes of his back. She reached further down to grab his arse, letting her nails bite into the soft flesh.

“ _Christ_ ,” he squealed, a full-body shudder overtaking him.

“Like that?” she purred, and she scratched his bum again.

They continued that way for several minutes, teasing each other with their words and touches. The longer they went at it, the more relaxed James became. Or, at least, the more comfortable he became—his body, however, was tight as a spring as his hips rocked nearly nonstop.

Rose reached between them and took his cock in her hand. He hummed and flexed his hips, pushing into her touch. She gave him a few light, lazy strokes, guiding him to her entrance while she did so. He froze above her when he realized what she was doing.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Easy does it, yeah?”

“I wasn’t exactly planning to just… ram myself right in.”

She laughed. “Good to know.”

Slowly, gradually, she took him inside her. Rose nearly combusted at the sound he made as he finally seated himself as deeply as he could go. He trembled above her, hips flush with hers, his entire body wound taut as he let out breathy grunts and sighs. His eyes shone in the lamplight, burning with heat and desire and desperation. Involuntarily, his hips shifted and his mouth slackened. He repeated the motion, tiny little wriggles of his hips.

Rose touched his waist, stilling his movements. Before he could splutter out an apology or whatever else was in his daft brain, she brought one hand up to cup the nape of his neck and guided him down for a kiss.

He moaned quietly into her mouth and dropped his weight down onto his forearms to be even closer to her. She scraped her hands through his hair while her lips explored his jaw and his neck. While she did that, she pressed her arse deep into the mattress, then thrust up.

His breath left him in a harsh pant, but he seemed to understand. Or, at least, his body did. His hips mirrored hers, pulling out, then pressing in. The slick drag of him sent sparks of pleasure through her, and she groaned, tightening her fingers in his hair.

Despite having already come earlier that night, she felt the coiling pressure winding up again in her belly.

“Shit, James,” she hissed. “God, you feel good.”

“S-so do you,” he rasped.

His movements were slow and controlled, but they felt incredible. The slide of his body against hers, the whisper of his breaths at her ear, the low noises coming from deep in his throat… She loved this. She loved _him_. Her James.

She kissed him fiercely, trying to pour every ounce of love and gratitude she felt for him into the kiss. He returned it sloppily, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. It took a few strokes for him to get it back, this one faster than the last.

Rose kept one of her hands on him, dragging it through his hair then across his spine then to his hair again, while her other slipped between their bodies to rub where they were joined. At the first touch of her fingers on her clit she whimpered, her belly clenching tighter. She arched her hips up, matching his rhythm.

“Feels so good,” he moaned. “It’s good. It’s so good. Rose, I… I’m… I’m getting close… Are you…?”

“Keep moving,” she panted, rubbing her clit harder and faster as she let the sounds he was making wash over her. There was nothing sexier than knowing how good he was feeling, that _she_ was making him feel good.

His hips stuttered, his rhythm nearly non-existent now as he chased his release. His hips sped up then slowed down, thrust deeply then shallowly, his body taking over, doing anything it could to find his pleasure. Words had escaped him, and he was now letting out panting cries that shot shivers down Rose’s spine and hurtled her closer to her own climax.

“God, James,” she gritted out.

He whimpered and thrust deeply into her before freezing as his orgasm overtook him. A groan of utter relief and pleasure rumbled out of him as his hips twitched and his bum clenched in time with the throbbing of his cock inside her.

 _Fuck,_ he was sexy. The sounds he was making were the sexiest things she’d ever heard. They were genuine little noises he couldn’t help but make as he was lost in himself, lost in _her_.

All of a sudden, Rose was consumed by how much she loved him. Of course, she already knew she loved him, but the scale of it hit her with all the subtlety of a hurricane. James was her best friend, and now her lover. She loved him, and he loved her. He loved every damaged piece of her, and accepted those pieces without judgement, but with kindness and reassurances and even more love.

And he trusted her with every piece of himself, too. For every part of herself that she gave to him, he gave her one in return, unafraid to show her his broken bits too. She hadn’t realized how much she craved such an emotional connection until she found it with James. She never wanted to let it go, and she never wanted to be with anyone else.

“ _Rose_.” The sound of her name jarred her out of her mind, bringing her back to the man still moving atop her. “Oh… oh, God… _fuck_ …”

Rose’s stomach bottomed out, his cries of pleasure sending her over the edge. Release shattered through her, a hot, desperate, all-consuming heat that washed over her until she was aware of nothing but her pleasure and how loved she felt. She gripped his arse as her back arched off the bed, lost to the waves of ecstasy cresting over her.

Time ceased to mean anything as she held James as close as she could and shook against him. It was so, so good, and more intense than anything she’d experienced in a while.

James’s ragged breaths puffed against her ear as she came down from her high. He held himself above her, even as his arms wobbled and shook. His forehead rested at the crook of her shoulder, and with every hot, humid exhale he let out, she shivered. Her hands were still clutching his bum. She released her grip and trailed them up his spine before moving them to his face.

She brushed his hair away from his eyes, prompting him to look at her. He looked dazed, sleepy, and completely blissed out. Her heart and stomach clenched in happiness and love. He smiled lazily at her, and she grinned right back.

“Congrats on losing your virginity,” she teased, sticking her tongue out as she beamed.

He snorted and sluggishly shifted off of her. He didn’t move far. Rather, Rose didn’t _let_ him move far. When he flopped onto his back, she rolled onto her side and cuddled close to him, slinging a leg across his and wrapping her arm around his middle, anchoring herself to him. He curled his arm around her shoulders and rested his other on her bare thigh, trailing his fingers up and down her leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“How was it?” he asked quietly.

“Perfect,” she murmured, kissing his chest. “How was it for you?”

“Perfect,” he parroted, nuzzling his lips against her forehead. “Better than I expected.”

“You expected it to go poorly?” she drawled.

“Not poorly, exactly,” he replied. “But, well, I’ve never done it before. Sure, I understood the mechanics. But it’s not the same as actually _doing_ it. I’m just glad you got off, too.” His hand stilled on her thigh. “You _did_ get off, right? It sounded like you did. It, er, _felt_ like you did, but…”

“Yes,” she said quickly, squeezing his waist. “Yes, I got off too.”

He sighed with relief. “In the future, if there’s a time you don’t and I don’t realize it, let me know. Don’t… please don’t fake it or something.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “I have a feeling I won’t have to, though. You were very thorough.”

He hummed and he seemed to physically puff up with pride. She rolled her eyes. But she absolutely couldn’t complain.

“I’m glad,” he said a quiet minute later, “that you were my first. I’m glad I didn’t conform to society’s expectations and shag someone just to be able to say I’d lost my virginity. No matter how often I got teased about it. This was so special, Rose. Thank you.”

Her throat swelled. She hated that he would ever be self-conscious about something so personal. She hated that people assumed most men lost their virginity in their teenage years, that it was almost _expected_ of them.

“This was very special for me, too,” she whispered. “I know it’s not my first time, but it is my first time with _you_. We only get one first time together. I’m happy this was it. Can only go up from here, and this was a damn good starting spot.”

He pinched her leg lightly. “Now you’ve jinxed it. What if this was a one-off? An outlier? And all the rest are rubbish?”

Rose snorted and flicked his hip. He squirmed and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips for dozens of tiny kisses along the ridge of her knuckles.

They were interrupted a few minutes later by James’s phone. An alarm blared, and he fumbled for it on the nightstand to turn it off.

“We ought to go out and finish dinner,” he lamented, even as he tucked his face into her hair and hugged her tighter.

“Probably,” she hummed in agreement. “Dunno about you, but I worked up quite the appetite.”

With a parting kiss, they detangled themselves from each other. Rose’s head swam with a headrush as she stood a little too quickly. They took a minute to clean themselves up before dressing.

When James rooted around his dresser for another pair of pants, Rose snagged a pair for herself. She tugged them on—glad they were stretchy, since he had such narrow hips and she did not—then she grabbed the hoodie that was draped on the doorknob to his closet. She winked at him as she donned it and bolted out of the room.

James caught up with her at the entrance to the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and lifted her off the floor, her back pressed to his chest. She squealed with laughter as James held her up, hauling her closer to him to press kisses to her neck.

“Thief,” he growled.

“Finders keepers,” she breathed.

He set her on her feet, but kept his arms around her. She spun around until they were facing each other. Her breath caught when he leaned forward until they were nose to nose, brow to brow.

“It looks better on you anyway,” he whispered, then he slotted his lips over hers to kiss her soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter 💜 Comments from you all make my day.
> 
> Next update: August 5th
> 
> Consider subscribing to this story or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~5000
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit (lightly so)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m doing something a little different over the next few chapters. The next major plot element happens for James and Rose in April, which would mean I would have to time-jump through four months. Rather than do that, I’m going to show a few of the moments between them over the next few months, meaning that the next few chapters will be shorter and more of a collection of scenes. I hope you enjoy them nevertheless!

**January**

To their relief, their first successful lovemaking session wasn’t a one-off. Over the following weeks as they explored their intimacy, James usually managed to last long enough for Rose to find her pleasure. If he didn’t, he used his fingers or mouth to bring her off.

He’d been mortified the first time he came too quickly, though. He almost ruined his orgasm by stopping his rhythm and nearly pulling out, but Rose wrapped her legs around his hips and arched into him, squeezing her muscles around him to give him the stimulation to send him completely over the edge.

“Sorry,” he gasped as he throbbed and released inside her. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” she whispered, scraping her nails through his hair. “Relax. Enjoy. Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Feel bloody brilliant,” he grunted. “You feel so good, Rose.”

“You feel good, too,” she said.

When he stopped trembling above her, he buried his face into her shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“James, stop,” she said, petting his hair. “It’s not the end of the world. Don’t you know how much I love watching you enjoy yourself? I love watching you come.”

“I love watching you, too. I love feeling you come around me. You squeeze me so tightly… it’s incredible.”

“Ah, so you’re upset because it didn’t feel as good for you?” she drawled.

“Pfft, of course,” he snorted. “My pleasure is all that counts, didn’t you know?”

Rose pinched him, and he laughed. He kissed the top of her breast and he said, “I hope you know I’m joking. Of course I’m more upset because you didn’t get off. If you give me a minute ‘til the room stops spinning, I will get right to work on your orgasm.”

True to his word, he slipped out of her and kissed his way down her body until he was settled between her thighs, where he remained until Rose found her pleasure too.

“Much better,” James said, seemingly content to stay between her legs. He’d shifted up slightly though to rest his cheek on her belly. His head rose and fell as she breathed deeply, her body still singing with hormones and endorphins. “I’ll get better at this whole sex thing. I promise.”

“You’re already pretty good at it,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “Jimmy was an awful lover at the start.”

“Oh?” he asked, sounding smug.

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “When we first started having sex, it took several tries before he made me come. I never told him I didn’t finish. I was too embarrassed, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure what sex was supposed to feel like. I knew it was supposed to feel good, and it did. But I didn’t know what, y’know, an orgasm felt like. We’d been intimate for a couple weeks before I felt one building. It didn’t happen, but I finally realized something more was _supposed_ to happen.

“I, er, began masturbating then, to figure it out myself. I learned my body and what I liked and what felt good, and I got myself off for the first time.” Rose chuckled. “I realized why Jimmy loved having sex so much, if it was like that every time for him.”

“What a selfish prick,” James huffed.

“We were just teenagers,” Rose reminded, “fumbling through sex and a serious relationship.”

“Pfff. I’m fumbling my way through sex and a serious relationship, but I think I’m doing all right.”

“You’re doing more than all right,” she promised, patting the top of his head 

“I would never leave my partner hanging. I mean, firstly I have no idea how he didn’t realize you didn’t come. You’re quite… expressive. And I can, y’know, _feel_ it. But secondly, I can’t imagine not checking with my partner—with _you_ —that you finished.”

“He was a bit lazy. Self-absorbed. I don’t think it crossed his mind to make sure I was having a good time with it. Either that or he was over-confident and assumed I’d gotten off.”

“Hmph. I still say he’s a selfish prick,” James grumbled. “Well. His loss. You’re the most amazing woman in the world, and I’m the luckiest man alive to be able to call you mine.”

Pleasure that had nothing to do with the rather marvelous orgasm he’d just given her rushed through her. Her heart swelled in her chest until she was grinning like an idiot. She tugged him up for a hard and fast kiss.

“Okay, your turn,” she mumbled around his lips.

“Hmm?”

“When did you start masturbating?”

He choked and pulled away from her. His cheeks slowly stained red, making Rose bite back a laugh.

“Oh, come on. You’re not shy, are you?”

“Of course not! Well. Maybe a little. A bit. A smidge. A tad. It’s an awkward subject.”

“James. You had your cock inside me five minutes ago. If that’s not awkward…”

“Fair enough,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I dunno. I guess it happened like it does for most teenage boys. I woke up with an… er… a… you know…”

“An erection?”

James coughed but nodded. “Yeah. And I had no bloody idea what was happening. So naturally I researched it myself and was in for quite a surprise when I found how vast the world of online pornography is. I was maybe twelve? Thirteen? Can’t remember exactly, but my parents were still alive.

“My mum saw my search history—yeah, you can imagine how mortifying that was—and she asked me what the bloody hell I thought I was doing. If you think I’m embarrassed now, this is nothing compared to how I stuttered trying to explain to my mother that I was trying to figure out what my, you know, _penis_ was doing…”

Rose couldn’t help it. She burst into a fit of laughter, both at James’s current awkwardness, and at the mental picture of a pre-teen James trying to tell his mother that, no, he wasn’t searching for pornography but rather trying to figure out why he was getting random erections.

“Sorry,” she gasped, pressing her palms into her streaming eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re just so adorable.”

“I’m glad you find this funny,” he muttered, though a grin was threatening at the corners of his mouth. “Do you want to hear the rest of this story or not?”

“Yes, sorry, please keep going.”

“My mum eventually understood what I was trying to say, and so she called my dad into the room and let him have a chat with me to explain the birds and the bees. Not that I didn’t know what that was, but he, y’know, told me about sex and how it happened and which parts go where. And he said that I might start feeling the urge to be, er, _intimate_ with someone, but I needed to be very, very careful, and that I shouldn’t engage in any activity unless I was willing and able to face the consequences.

“As you know, I never engaged in such _activities_ until recently. But as for masturbation… my dad told me that even if I wasn’t ready to have sex, it was normal for me to, er, touch myself. The whole conversation mortified little thirteen-year-old me, so I tried to ignore it. But it only took a couple weeks for me to get curious about masturbation.”

James shrugged and began tracing absent shapes across the swell of her breast. “So that’s it. Not an exciting story.”

“But it’s part of you,” she countered. “And I want to know everything about you.”

He smiled shyly at her and leaned down to kiss the trail his fingers had taken. She sighed at the thrill of gentle goosebumps that prickled across her skin and buried her fingers in his hair to hold him where he was.

“Is it always like this?” he asked, kissing his way down the valley of her breasts then up to her collarbone.

“What?”

“This… intense desire to touch you and kiss you and make love with you?” he asked. “I want you again, even though I just had you. It’s like… it’s like I can’t get enough of you. It’s addictive, being inside you. Not just because it feels good—and believe me, it feels bloody brilliant—but because I feel so safe with you when we’re like this. It feels like I can share everything with you… share my _soul_ with you, cheesy as that sounds. It’s like we’re literally _making_ love, generating more of it until it feels like my heart will burst, but it never does and instead it grows bigger and bigger to hold all of my love for you. God, I sound like a sap.”

“Yeah, you do, but I love it,” Rose whispered as her eyes prickled. “Do you know how special you make me feel when you say things like that? God, James. I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you. And I’ve never felt as loved by someone as I do by you. I’ve never had this kind of… intense pillow talk before. I love it. I love you.”

He lifted onto his forearms to stretch up to press a kiss to her lips. “I love you, too. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. And for letting me share myself with you.”

He kissed her again, his mouth gliding with hers, lips and tongues pushing and pulling while his fingertips skated up and down her body. He caressed the sides of her breasts, then moved south, fingertips drumming down each of her ribs until he reached the curve of her hip. He gripped it and pulled, encouraging her to arch into him.

Her nerves were a livewire, sparking beneath his mouth, his touch, making her shiver and shudder with a roaring desire that blazed hotter as she felt him growing at her hip.

“Roll over,” she ordered, pushing his chest even as she was desperate to keep kissing him.

“What…?”

“Over,” she repeated. “On your back.”

He furrowed his brow and shifted off of her. His eyes widened when she clambered atop him, resting her bum against his half-hard cock.

“God, I love you,” she said, bending down to kiss him fiercely. “I will love you forever.”

His answer was muffled by her mouth, then eventually lost to grunts and groans as she rubbed against him. His hands grabbed her arse, squeezing and pulling as he grew beneath her.

“Rose,” he rasped, arching his hips.

Her name on his lips made her core clench. She lifted her hips up and away from him. He let out a strangled whine of protest, but it died when she wrapped her fingers around him. His eyes rolled shut as she stroked him, rubbing him through her. Even that simple stimulation was enough to cause her pleasure to flare.

“Gonna fuck you,” she whispered into his ear, nipping at the lobe.

His entire body convulsed and he let out a wrenching groan from deep in his chest. His eyes popped open when she took him into her, sinking down on him in one smooth move before setting a punishing rhythm.

“Oh God,” he gasped.

Pleasure lit her up from the inside out until she was barely aware of her body. Her hips pumped and her nails bit into the soft skin of his chest where she used him for balance and leverage. His hands were stationary at her hips, gripping them with near-bruising force as his neck arched into the mattress.

“Oh _fuck_.”

“Let me hear you. You feel _amazing_ , James.”

“So… so do you. Oh God, I’m gonna…” He bit his bottom lip until Rose leaned down for a kiss. He clumsily returned it, panting and moaning and cursing as his body arched up hard into her.

An intense surge of pleasure shot through her. “ _Ohhh_ , do that again.”

He obliged, thrusting up to meet her rhythm until she was clenching around him, free falling through an inferno of sensation. She was vaguely aware of him crying out and releasing deep within her, but she was more focused on her own pleasure as it crashed over her again and again and again in pulsing, throbbing waves.

Her muscles shook and ached as she slumped into him, thoroughly exhausted. His chest heaved beneath her, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself.

“Mmmm,” she agreed.

“...Fuck,” he repeated, and she giggled.

She forced herself to glance up at him; he was bleary-eyed and flushed, the hair at his temples damp with sweat.

“That was intense,” he said. “God, that was intense.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“God yes. But that was intense.”

“Good.” She nestled her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“That was fun,” she said.

“Yeah. It was intense,” he said stupidly.

Rose shook with laughter. “So you’ve said.”

“Oh. Sorry. Brain’s not working. I think you shagged it out of me.”

She laughed harder. He squeaked, hips jumping, and she realized he was still inside her. She lifted her hips, letting him slip out, but she was in no mood to roll off of him. He didn’t seem keen on letting go of her either if the way his hands gripped her bum was any indication.

“Now I can’t tell which I like better,” James murmured, absently stroking the small of her back. “Hard and fast, or slow and tender.”

“I enjoy them both too,” she answered. “It will all depend on what we’re in the mood for that day, I s’pose.”

“Er… can I ask a stupid question? I know we’ve made love every day for the past week. But surely that’s not normal? I mean, I assume this is the addiction of something new and amazing? Our pace will slow down, right?”

Rose frowned. “Have we been shagging too much for you?”

“No! God no! Oh, bugger, I didn’t word that correctly. Let me try again. And let me start by prefacing that I have loved being intimate with you. I’ve loved it and I can’t imagine ever wanting to stop. But, statistically, couples don’t have sex every single day for the rest of their lives. And I guess I wanted to make sure that it’s all right if we don’t make love every day. Your wording of “what we’re in the mood for that day” makes it sound like you’re expecting sex every day and while I am more than willing to make love with you, or to bring you off in some other way, I think it’s healthier to acknowledge that our ardent intimacy will cool down eventually and…”

Rose’s head was spinning. She reached up and covered James’s mouth.

“Relax,” she said. “I know that sex drives cool down. I didn’t mean to make you panic, thinking you had to be ready and willing to shag every single day for the rest of our lives.”

“I wasn’t _panicking_ ,” he muttered, his voice muffled from her palm.

She raised a doubtful eyebrow at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. He then licked her hand, making her yank it back with a yelp.

“Okay, so maybe my brain sort of ran away from me,” he admitted. “I suppose I want us to be on the same page, is all. Sex drives that don’t match up is a major cause of dissatisfaction in a relationship, you know.”

“Try not to overthink this,” she said gently. “Yes, we’re having a lot of sex right now, and I know things will cool down. Probably sooner rather than later since classes will be starting up in a couple weeks. Let’s make a deal right now to be upfront in the future about any issues that arise, yeah? If you think I want to have sex too often or not often enough, tell me. And I’ll tell you the same.”

“Deal.”

oOoOo

Because they spent nearly all their time together trying to take advantage of the last few weeks of winter break before classes would resume at the end of January, they shared a bed nearly every night. Despite the fact that they’d decided they wouldn’t be moving in together yet, a fair amount of Rose’s clothes and possessions found their way to James’s house.

Without making a conscious effort, James rearranged his closet and dresser to accommodate her clothes, and he’d cleared off a shelf in his bathroom vanity for her to keep her toiletries and makeup bottles. Every time she saw something simple like her toothbrush sitting next to his, her stomach somersaulted in delight. The small pleasure of seeing her things next to his things was nearly as intimate as lovemaking.

Rose also enjoyed waking up beside James. Most of the time he was already awake, but there were rare moments when he was still asleep, so she could watch him as much as she wanted. She committed every little detail of him to memory to sketch later. 

It had been an age since she’d drawn anything, too consumed with taking photographs to engage in any other art. But she loved getting back to it, and James worked wonders for her muse. The sketches flowed from her until she’d taken up the last half of her sketchbook when it had taken her the entire autumn semester to fill up the first half.

James surprised her with a new sketchpad when he realized she only had a few pages left.

“I hope this is all right,” he said when he presented it to her. “I tried to get the same brand. If it’s not, I think I kept the receipt somewhere.”

Rose’s cheeks were warm as she accepted the sketchpad from him.

“I- I hope this was okay,” he repeated. “I know you don’t like gifts, but I was in a craft store and the whole shop made me think of you.”

“Stop,” she said, covering his hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate this, James. Really, I do. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled shyly, his shoulders loosening. She cursed herself—she didn’t want him to be nervous to give her a gift.

“Thank you,” she said for a third time. “I love it.” She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment before she blurted, “Do you want to see some of the sketches?”

“I would love to,” he said, beaming.

Rose cuddled close to him and let him flip through her old sketch book at his leisure.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

“Hmm?” She glanced down and flushed when she realized what page he was on. She’d drawn him nude—well, nearly nude—on several occasions. She never drew him below the waist, but she’d used him to practice the shading of muscles and bone around his pecs, shoulders, collarbone, and navel.

“You’ve beefed me up,” he said with a snort.

“Nah, you’ve got some muscle definition,” she defended. He raised a dubious eyebrow at her. “All right, I may have… enhanced a few things.”

“And eliminated several others,” he teased, pointing at the blank bottom part of the page where his hips smeared into nothingness. “I seem to be missing a part of my anatomy.”

“Your legs?” she asked innocently.

Laughing, he replied, “Yup, that’s it.”

Rose stuck her tongue out at him and settled in to watch him look at the rest of her sketches.

“You should feel honored, you know,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I rarely show people my art, unless it’s for a class.”

“Why not?” he squawked. “It’s beautiful.”

Her cheeks heated at the praise.

“And whoever says differently can piss off,” he said with a definitive nod. 

“Thanks, James.”

He kissed her temple and flipped through the rest of her sketchbook, asking for details whenever she sketched a person, place, or thing he wasn’t familiar with. So she told him about some of her favorite childhood memories and places to go in London. She’d sketched a few of her friends from home and some of the things around the flat she’d lived in with her mother.

And for every memory she shared, he shared one right back. He told her about the places he had been to from his travels with his parents and aunt as well as his own solo-traveling he had done between graduating school and starting at the university.

Piece by piece, they fortified the foundation of their relationship until Rose was confident nothing could ever shake it, especially if they carried on like this for the rest of their lives. Of course, there were still some things she hadn’t told him, and vice versa—they each had over twenty years of memories, and that wasn’t exactly something that could be shared in just a few weeks. And there were a few memories that Rose didn’t want to dredge up yet, but she hoped that one day she would feel comfortable and confident enough to share them with James.

For now, she was content to live in the moment with him. They went out on dates as often as possible. She had asked her boss for slightly reduced hours so she could spend more time with James. Rose worked on her budget down to the last penny to figure out exactly how many hours she needed to work to make ends meet. Part of her was anxious, telling her that she ought to work more to give herself some wiggle room, but the other part of her was ecstatic to have more free time, both with James and by herself. 

On the nights they didn’t spend together, Rose did chores around her flat and caught up with her friends. She tried to video chat with her mates and her mother back in London at least once a week, and she reached out to a few of the people she had befriended the semester before. While she loved James more than she could ever express, she didn’t want him to be the only thing in her world. She wanted her own life, her own friends—she had learned her lesson about making one person the center of her life, and it had crashed and burned spectacularly.

Rose was getting excited for the new semester to start, especially when she realized a couple of her new friends would be in some of her classes.

“I’m so happy that you’re so happy,” James commented to her while they were on a shopping trip for school supplies. “While I would love to keep you to myself forever, that’s not fair, or healthy.”

“Have you gone out with any mates recently?” she asked, linking her arm through his as they wandered the aisles at Walmart.

“No,” he confessed. “Though Jack is trying to get a pub trivia team together for the coming semester and asked if I’d like to join.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Yeah, I think I might agree to it,” he answered. “Any friend of Jack’s is sure to be an interesting character.”

“No doubt,” Rose snorted. “I think you’ll love being on a quiz team. You’re brilliant.”

“I am, aren’t I?” he preened.

Rose rolled her eyes and pinched his side, making him yelp loudly enough that everyone in their vicinity turned to look at him.

With their school shopping finished, they returned to James’s house in time to watch the inauguration of the first female president of the United States of America. While Rose wasn’t all that interested in American politics—she appreciated them insofar as they affected her as a foreigner living there for the time being—she enjoyed spending a lazy, rainy day with James.

He was vibrating with excitement as he watched the ceremony, and Rose had to admit that it was empowering to see a strong, female leader being sworn into office, when it could just as easily have been an obnoxious, abrasive bigot taking the oath of office.

“God, look at that crowd,” James said as the cameras panned over Washington, D.C. Despite the rain, the streets were packed. “I think Obama’s was larger, but blimey, this is a close runner-up. I’ll be curious to see the numbers.”

“Mmm.”

He grimaced. “Sorry. I know you’re not really into this.”

“But _you’re_ into this,” she said simply, threading their fingers together. “Relationships are give-and-take y’know. There will be times I’m not interested in what we’re doing, and there will be just as many times when you’re not interested in it. As long as it’s balanced, it’ll be fine. Besides, I’m enjoying spending time with you. I think I’d be happy to watch paint dry if I could do it with you.”

He made a high, happy noise from the back of his throat, and Rose beamed. She tucked her head into his shoulder and returned her attention to the television to listen to Hillary Clinton’s inaugural address.

“I almost kissed you on election night.” Rose glanced up at James’s quiet words, but his gaze was fixed on the television. “I thought maybe you wanted to kiss me too. But then you ran away from me.”

She grimaced, mortified at her past reactions to realizing she was falling in love with him. “Not my best moment.”

“No,” he agreed, laughing. “You put quite a dent in my confidence, I’ll have you know. I was terrified I’d misread all of the signals and the chemistry between us, and that you were content with us being nothing more than friends. I thought I’d been friend-zoned.”

“I was scared of how I felt about you,” Rose said, nudging her shoulder into his. “My last relationship was a train wreck and left me hurting and broken. It took a lot of work to put myself together, and I knew I never wanted to do that again. So when I began falling for you after only knowing you for a couple months, it scared the hell out of me. Then we’d been drinking and having such a great night together, and I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss you because I was so caught up in the moment or if I was drunk. Furthermore, I didn’t know if _you_ were drunk. And remember, I didn’t know about your, er, sexual history at the time, so I didn’t know if maybe you were just horny and I was a friend you were comfortable with.”

James spluttered incoherently for a few seconds, but Rose ignored him. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if we’d kissed or had sex and you regretted it the next day. You were too important to me as a friend for me to ruin that with one impulsive decision.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he grumbled, a little petulantly, though he couldn’t contain the small smile that crossed his face. “Still. It would have been a nice way to end our date.”

Rose snorted. “Not sure you can call it a date before we officially began dating.”

“Oh, love, we’ve been going on dates ever since I asked you to join me on the trip to Philadelphia,” he said, booping the tip of her nose. “That’s the perk of dating your best friend.”

Rose beamed up at him. “Mate dates.”

“Mhm. Which retroactively become date-dates when you consider we’d both been secretly in love with each other all semester.”

“Is that how that works?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Sure, okay, love,” Rose said, patting him on the thigh.

He blew a raspberry at her, but he rested his cheek on the top of her head to continue watching the ceremony and the subsequent departure of Barack and Michelle Obama from the White House for the last time as residents.

“I can’t believe we’re watching history,” James murmured in awe. “ _Living_ it. That’s twice now, back to back: the first Black president, now the first woman to be president.”

“I don’t think I realized how… normal it would be,” Rose said. “I mean, this is exciting, but at the same time, it seems like an ordinary event. It makes me wonder how all of the people who lived through wars and civil rights movements and things felt. Did it feel big to them at the time?”

“That’s an interesting concept,” James mused. “You never know what will be considered historic in the future, what will be written in the textbooks that future generations will read. It’s sort of humbling to think that you and I are tiny, insignificant cogs in the machine of humanity, but that to our own lives, we’re the most important pieces.”

“How philosophical of you,” Rose teased. “You know, you’re a pretty important piece in the machine of my life.”

“As are you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “And I dunno about you, but I certainly enjoy having a few of my _parts_ inside your _machine_.”

Rose could practically hear his eyebrows waggling, and she groaned. “Oh my God, that was awful.”

“That’s not what you’ve said in the past,” he said sweetly.

“Keep that up and none of your _parts_ will be going inside my _machine_ any time soon,” she warned, though there was no bite to her words.

“You love it,” he crooned.

“Not sure I do,” she said, forcing nonchalance into her voice.

“You love meeeee,” he sang.

A broad grin broke over Rose’s face. “Yeah, I suppose I do. And for what it’s worth, your _parts_ feel quite nice in my _machine_.”

James cackled and rested his hand on the inside of her thigh. “Wanna put some of our parts together?”

“Don’t you want to keep watching history?” Rose asked, gesturing to the television.

“I’m much more interested in the present at the moment,” he answered, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.

She sighed and tilted her head back so he could kiss her. “I like the present.”

“Mmmm, so do I,” he agreed, finally slotting his lips over hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter 💜 Comments from you all make my day.
> 
> Next update: whenever I finish February's scenes... and you know comments make me want to write 😉
> 
> Consider subscribing to this story or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The montage of February, which means... Valentine's Day 😏😘🍆😉
> 
> Chapter Length: ~6700 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Lindsay ([Aintfraidanoghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts)) 😘

**February**

It was pitch-dark out when Rose awoke to a steady, urgent throb in her bladder. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall back to sleep instead. After five minutes and an increasing need, she dragged herself out of bed as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her bedmate, and to keep herself drowsy enough that she would be able to fall asleep once she’d taken care of business.

Upon relieving herself and washing her hands, she realized she hadn’t needed to be quiet—James wasn’t in bed. A month or so of regularly sleeping together told Rose that this wasn’t all that rare of an occurrence; however, a glance at the clock informed her it was nearly four in the morning. _That_ was rare. James was an early riser, sure, but “early” as in seven.

Unease and concern evaporated her exhaustion, and she padded out of the bedroom to search for her boyfriend.

She didn’t have to look far. James was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a book in his hands and Pippin on the back of the couch by his head. She stopped at the entryway to the living room to watch him. His feet were tapping and bouncing against the floor and he was chewing on his bottom lip hard enough that Rose worried he would break skin. His entire body was tense, all of his muscles locked up.

“James?” she called out quietly.

He jumped, startling Pippin into bolting to the kitchen. “Rose. Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No,” she said, stepping into the room. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just a bit of light reading,” he said, showing her the cover of the book: _And Then There Were None_ by Agatha Christie.

“At four in the morning?”

“Is it four?” He swiveled his head towards the clock on the wall. “Ah. So it is.”

“How long have you been out here?”

He shrugged and dog-eared the page he was on before tossing the book on the end table beside him. “Not sure. Time is sort of a foreign concept in the middle of the night, innit? A sort of liminal space, between the end of one day and the start of another, and all the hours blur together without any sort of meaning.”

Rose had no idea what liminal space was, but she did know he was babbling to avoid the true point to her query. Well, she supposed if she wanted a real answer, she ought to ask a real question.

She sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion beside him and slipped her hand over his thigh, caressing it lightly before she took one of his hands in hers.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me. Please.”

James sighed and threaded his fingers between hers. His other hand covered the back of hers until her hand was completely encased by his. His palms were warm and a little sweaty despite the chill in the room.

He didn’t speak for many long minutes, long enough that Rose was sure he was never going to answer her. And that was fine, she supposed. God knows there had been times when someone would ask her what was the matter and she didn’t feel like talking about it right at that moment. She hoped he would come to her later, though, once he’d digested his thoughts and emotions and could put them into sentences.

So when he spoke into the silence between them, it surprised her enough that she nearly flinched.

“I told you before that sometimes I have trouble sleeping. Tonight’s one of those nights. I’ll be fine. You can go back to bed. It’s late. Er… early. Whatever. It’s a time at which you should be asleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” she said, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. “Unless you want to be alone…?”

“No.” He planted a kiss to the top of her head, then rested his cheek there. “I had a bad dream.”

Rose’s heart ached, and she squeezed his fingers. He returned the gesture, sandwiching her hand tighter between his.

“I’ve had the same dream ever since the fire,” he said. “In my dream, I’m surrounded by these dark figures and I can’t hear anything and I can’t speak or shout. They’re all holding me down until I can’t move at all, until I can’t breathe. Then I wake up and it takes me a while to remember where I am. Or _when_ I am.”

“Oh, James,” she whispered. “That sounds so scary.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “Been having it since I was thirteen. And it still scares me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Usually I calm myself down by testing the smoke alarms. I test them monthly, but after a dream like that, I can’t help but do it again. I’ve got an alarm in every room in the house. Dunno if you ever noticed.” Rose hadn’t, but now that he mentioned it, she wasn’t surprised. “Obviously I couldn’t do that tonight. It makes quite a racket. So I came out here and tried to distract myself. It’s not going well.”

He snorted mirthlessly and gestured to the coffee table. Rose realized that there were half a dozen books tossed haphazardly across the surface, ones he must have started but lost interest in over the course of however long he had been out here.

“Well, I’m not asleep anymore,” Rose said. “Let’s test those smoke alarms. I’ve never tested one before. You can show me how.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “You must be tired. Go back to bed, love.”

“If I were upset enough about something that it kept me from sleeping, would you leave me by myself?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what makes you think I’m gonna leave you?”

His mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds as he just _looked_ at her. “Okay,” was all he said before he stood from the sofa and pulled her to her feet.

Rose followed him as he went from room to room checking the smoke detectors. It was an easy process, she found out, but a loud one. She cringed every time the high-pitched squeal resounded from the alarm until she was sure the ringing in her ears would be permanent.

“Sorry, I know it’s annoying,” James said with a grimace.

Rose shook her head. “Rather this than them not work when we need them to.”

“Exactly. The cats hate the sound of the alarm, too. They always go into hiding when I test them. God knows how I’d catch them if there ever was a fire.”

“You better get yourself outside and stay there,” Rose said sternly. “I love your cats, I do, but I love you more, and your life is worth more than the lives of three cats.”

“Weeeeell, I think I’d leave Gollum behind to roast,” James teased, “so just two cats.”

“Even still. Your life is more important. Take care of yourself first.”

“Second,” he amended. When she opened her mouth to argue, he corrected, “Not the cats. _You_.” He booped her nose with the tip of his index finger. “You would be my first priority. If I had to go back inside for you, I would. It’s funny, I never understood how my dad could go back into our burning house, but now I do. God, do I understand. I’m not sure I would abandon my kid outside, but I at least know why he went back for my mum like he did. My parents loved each other deeply, as deeply as I love you. I would do _anything_ for you, Rose.”

“And I, you. I would do anything to keep you safe. I love you, James.”

“I love you, too.” He stepped up to her and cradled her cheeks in his palms, tilting her head back to press a long, slow kiss to her lips. “I love you more than you’ll know.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” she said, lifting up to her toes and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to deepen the kiss. “Because I love you that much.”

He smiled against her lips then moved his hands to her hips. His hands wandered aimlessly, dipping beneath her shirt to caress the planes of her spine, drawing a roadmap with his fingertips to places only he could find.

“Want to go to bed?” Rose asked, shivering at his touch.

“I’m not tired,” he murmured, trailing his mouth down her jaw and to the side of her neck.

“Neither am I,” she sighed, tilting her head to the side to give him better access.

“Then why…?”

Rose rolled her eyes. Her daft James. Clearly he needed more context, so she slid her leg between his and rolled her hips up and in. He gasped, and the penny dropped.

“Oh. That’s… that’s a very good idea. Very nice. Yup. Bed. Let’s go to bed.”

Rose giggled to herself but she broke away from him to guide him to bed to show him just how loved he was.

oOoOo

Valentine’s Day should not be this stressful, James concluded as he wandered helplessly through a flower shop, wondering what he should get for Rose before he picked her up for their date. The most logical thing was roses, because, well, _Valentine’s Day_ , but her literal _name_ was Rose, so wouldn’t it be obnoxious to also get her roses?

He’d had enough anxiety trying to figure out what she wanted to do to celebrate the day. At first, he had wanted to make plans to go out to a nice, fancy restaurant and they could each get dressed up in nice, fancy clothes. As he was about to make a reservation, he panicked that she wouldn’t like something so fancy, because fancy meant expensive.

Then he thought that they could attend the couples-only mini gala that the university was throwing for its students on Valentine’s Day. But he nixed that idea straight away, because even though it would be a free event, shouldn’t they spend Valentine’s Day alone, and not be hundredth-wheeled by all the other couples?

So he concluded that they could spend Valentine’s Day either at his place or hers, having a nice dinner and some wine, and it would be like any of their other dates.

It barely took another minute before his brain asked him whether or not Rose even _wanted_ to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was sort of a cheesy holiday anyway, commercialized to make money on flowers and chocolates. She might not like the day and would prefer to pretend it was an ordinary day.

After going back and forth (and back and forth and back and forth) for an embarrassingly long time, he finally had the rather brilliant idea of simply _asking her_ what she wanted to do for Valentine’s Day. Although he would love to acknowledge the holiday—it was his first Valentine’s Day being in a relationship—he didn’t want to celebrate it if Rose didn't like it. However, he was delightfully surprised when she admitted that a dinner out at a nice restaurant sounded romantic.

That brought him to his current predicament of what to bring to Rose when he picked her up. He already had the traditional heart-shaped box of chocolates, and he supposed that would be good enough, and yet here he was, a half hour into perusing the flower shop. He knew he had been there far too long when the same employee had asked if he needed assistance no less than three times.

“I’ll be up at the front register if you change your mind,” the woman had said.

James nearly stalked out of the store without purchasing anything, but he had wasted so much time, he couldn’t leave empty-handed.

 _What’s the worst that could happen?_ he asked himself. _Maybe she’ll be exasperated at getting roses, but at least you’ll know for the future to try a different flower. C’mon, she’s not gonna break up with you over a flower._

James continued his mental pep talk as he went up to the front of the shop and asked for a bouquet of roses.

“How many?” the shop employee asked. “And what color?”

“Er…” James scratched at the back of his neck. “Red, I guess? And I dunno… does it matter?”

The employee smiled at him in a way that made him feel like a toddler being condescended to. “Colors and numbers all have meaning. You’ll want different colors if you’re buying roses for a friend versus a lover, and the number of a certain color rose can have different meanings, depending on how serious the relationship is. Here.”

The woman handed him a laminated chart, displaying rose colors and numbers and what they all meant. Unless Rose had a hobby he didn’t know about, he wasn’t sure she would know the difference between one rose or three or a dozen. But the words ‘eternal love’ caught his eye, so he asked for nine red roses. Even if Rose didn’t get the symbolism, he would secretly know.

Because he’d spent much longer in the shop than he’d planned to, James had to rush to get to Rose’s flat in time. He gave himself a quick once-over in the window of his car, fixing his hair, straightening his tie, and smoothing his suit jacket. Despite having brushed his teeth before leaving his house, he popped a minty breath strip. _Just in case_. His tongue tingled as it dissolved, and he smacked it against the roof of his mouth to dispel the sensation.

He grabbed the chocolates and Rose’s roses— _ha! Rose’s roses_ —before jogging into her building and up the stairs to her flat. Rose answered his knock after a few seconds.

She was _radiant_. She’d curled her hair, letting it fall in gentle waves around her shoulders, framing the graceful arch of her neck where a simple gold necklace ringed her throat. A tear-drop diamond nestled at her bosom, drawing his attention. He couldn’t help himself; the V-neck of her navy-blue dress gave him a deliciously tantalizing view of her cleavage. Lower and lower his gaze wandered, following the cling of the fabric as it hugged her stomach and hips, then flared out at her thighs, ending at her knees. The hem swayed slightly with her movements and the imperceptible air currents.

“Blimey,” he croaked, his eyes raking up and down her body, drinking her in as though he hadn’t seen her in a thousand years. “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed pink as she beamed at him. He noticed with a hint of satisfaction that her eyes were slowly traveling up and down his body as well. They then zeroed in on his hands, prompting him to remember his gifts.

He loosened his grip from where he’d been accidentally strangling the stems of the roses and held them and the heart-shaped box out to her.

“For you,” he said stupidly. “Er. Obviously.”

She accepted the flowers and chocolates from him, burying her nose in the velvety petals to breathe them in.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, peeking up at him beneath her lashes. “Thank you. Nobody’s ever gotten me roses before, ‘cos of my name. It’s funny, you’d think everyone would want to give me roses. Instead, it’s the opposite.”

She set the box of chocolates on her kitchen table and spun away from him to root in the cabinet under her sink, where she retrieved a glass vase in which to put the flowers. With that task completed, she returned to him and grabbed her coat off the back of a chair.

“Ready?” he asked once she’d fastened the buttons.

At her nod, he opened her front door and guided her to his car. The restaurant where they had reservations was several miles outside of town, away from the pubs and fast-food restaurants meant to cater to the undergraduate population at the university. Instead, they were going into the nearby city, where James found a new Italian restaurant that had good reviews.

He had been anxious about parking, worried that he wouldn’t be able to find anything close to the restaurant; he didn’t want to make Rose walk in the cold, especially in her strappy sandals. Luckily, there was a public garage across the street, and it had spaces available when he circled up a couple levels. He parked neatly then sprinted around to the other side of his car to help Rose. With their clasped hands swaying between them, they walked out of the garage and across the street.

The restaurant was beautiful, with shimmering crystal chandeliers and a black tile floor that were so well polished that James could nearly see his reflection in it. Rose slipped her arm through his and pressed close to him to whisper, “I feel like I’ll break something if I breathe too hard.”

James snorted and gave her arm a squeeze. “Is this too fancy? We don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s gorgeous,” she said. “It’s very different from our normal dates, but it’s kinda fun. It makes me feel like a real adult.”

He laughed again and together, they followed the maître d’ through the restaurant and to their table. The soft, yellow lighting and quiet background music created a setting so intimate that, even though there were other patrons, it was as though they were entirely alone.

The food and wine were both delicious, filling him up and making him delightfully drowsy by the time their evening drew to a close. It had been fun to pretend that he and Rose belonged in such a fancy setting, and while he would enjoy doing that every now and then, James concluded that he preferred their simpler dates out at local restaurants or a dinner in at one of their homes.

“Thank you for dinner,” Rose said as they walked to his car, arm in arm. “This was a really fun night.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he replied, bending down to kiss the top of her head.

The drive to Rose’s flat was quiet, but comfortably so. Rose kept his hand in hers and traced absent shapes across his palm and up his wrist. Her feather-light touch created goosebumps across his skin, and he had to bite his lip to keep from sighing every other second. How was such an innocent touch so erotic?

By the time he parked in front of Rose’s building, James was thrumming with low-level arousal. He was mercifully spared from figuring out how to ask if he could come up to her flat with her when Rose made the offer. He readily agreed, filling the parking meter with enough quarters to get him to nine o’clock, after which street parking was free until eight the following morning. Not wanting to presume but hoping he would be welcome to stay the night, James made a mental note of his meter number so that he would be able to log into the parking app and schedule a meter payment for the following morning.

There was absolutely no denying Rose’s intentions when they made it to the privacy of her flat. She had no more than locked the door behind them when she pinned him against it and fused their mouths together. He couldn’t help the little grunt that came from his throat, not when her hands buried themselves in his hair, scratching and massaging. Not when her body pressed tightly to his, her soft, warm curves arching into him.

He wrapped his arms around her as his mouth moved with hers, his tongue playing a game of tag with hers. Soon, though, he craved more direct contact and began fumbling with the fastenings of her coat, then with his. It was slow going, what with how closely they were standing, but he eventually got them both open.

Rose, realizing what he’d done, removed her hands from his hair and began working with him to shed their jackets until both sets of fabric were pooled on the floor. He shed his suit jacket while they were parted, but after that, Rose wasted no time—she reached out, grabbed his tie, and _tugged_. Their mouths met in a hard, frantic kiss that sent a full-body shudder through him.

He hissed when she hitched one of her legs around his hips and rubbed against him, encouraging the dull, steady throb behind his zip to grow. And grow it did as they leisurely snogged against her front door as though they had all the time in the world, as though neither of them had to be awake and coherent for classes the following morning.

God, he wanted her. He’d never wanted anyone before, not like this, and now that he had her, it was impossible to stop.

James reached down and grabbed her bum, squeezing as Rose rocked into him, her hips falling into a smooth rhythm. In, up, out. In, up, out. In, up, out. Again and again and again she moved, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine the longer she ground against him.

Just when he was about to suggest they take their activities elsewhere, Rose asked, “Bed?”

He hurriedly agreed, shivering when the heat of her body left his as she took a step away from him. She bit her kiss-swollen bottom lip as she grinned at him, and there was something in her expression that made his belly clench.

“I think I wanna crack into my Valentine’s Day chocolates,” she murmured, her voice several octaves lower than normal. “What d’you think?”

 _What do I think?_ He currently wasn’t thinking much of anything, apart from how much he wanted to hold her and kiss her and make love with her. But he nodded dumbly. She picked up the chocolates, grabbed him by his tie—he made a mental note to wear one every damn day for the rest of their lives—and led him down the short hall to her bedroom.

Rose frowned at the piles of clothes strewn around the room. “‘Scuse the mess.”

“I don’t care,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. 

She hummed against his lips and tossed the box of chocolates onto her nightstand.

“As much as I love this tie,” she mumbled around his mouth, “it has to go.”

She walked her fingers up and down the satin until she reached the knot at his neck. His pulse pounded through his veins, and he wondered if she could feel it at his throat as she slipped her fingers beneath the knot and loosened it. Inch by inch, she slid the fabric free until both ends draped along his chest.

Next went his shirt. She yanked the hem out of his trousers and worked from the top down to unfasten each of the buttons. She held his gaze the entire time, her eyes deep and dark. James wasn’t sure if he wanted her to speed up or slow down. His mind was foggy and full of nothing but Rose and his burning, raging arousal.

The sides of his shirt parted to put his torso on display. Rose rested her palms on his chest and dragged them down, scraping her nails through his chest hair then down his ribs. He shivered and gasped at the frissons of pleasure her touch created. She made the same path up his torso, then moved her hands to his shoulders, beneath the fabric, to push his shirt down his arms and to the floor.

“You are _so bloody sexy_ ,” she said, leaning up to press a nipping kiss to the side of his neck.

There was no way she couldn’t feel the frantic beating of his heart, not as she latched her mouth to his pulse point and _sucked_ , drawing a whimper from him. His hands flailed, unsure of what to do or where to go. They landed at her waist, gripping hard. He pulled on her hips, urging her to move against him, to use him to make herself feel good. She wasted no time in wrapping on of her legs around his waist and grinding into him, resuming the rhythm she’d started at the front door.

He groaned whenever she moved in a way that created a particularly potent bolt of pleasure, and he hoped she was enjoying this as much as he was. His entire body was hot yet chilled, and as much as he didn’t want to stop, if they kept going like this, the situation in his pants was about to get very messy,

Rose eventually unlatched her mouth from his neck. The skin where it had been was blazing hot and slightly stinging; James wondered whether she’d left a mark. One of his brain cells worried about whether he would be able to cover it up, but all of his other ones were more concerned about what her mouth and hands and body were currently doing, and hoping she would never stop.

She did stop, but he couldn’t be too upset, not when she sank to her knees before him, her eyes still fixed on his. Holding his gaze, she leaned closer, closer, closer… He bit his lip when her mouth met his clothed erection, kissing him delicately through the fabric of his trousers. He pulsed and throbbed in time with the wild beating of his heart.

Her hands wandered lower, and James felt the tug of his shoestrings as Rose undid the laces. He lifted each foot in turn to let her take off his shoes and socks. For an embarrassing second, he was worried about whether his feet were sweaty or smelly, but he promptly forgot about that when Rose popped the button of his trousers. She cupped her hands around his bum and locked eyes with him.

“Don’t move,” she ordered, and oh God, he would do anything she told him to do.

Her fingers squeezed his arse as she pressed a kiss to his belly, planting kiss after kiss down his happy trail. When she had gone as far as she could go, she parted her lips slightly in an open-mouthed kiss to his straining cock.

“Rose,” he hissed, nearly trembling with the effort of staying still.

“Don’t move,” she repeated, and he realized why. Oh God, she had his zipper in her mouth, clamped delicately between her teeth.

Her name wheezed out of his throat as, tooth by tooth, she dragged the zipper down. The tease of friction, of pressure, was enough to make his knees wobble. He clenched his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms to ground himself and keep from pressing closer to her. How painful and embarrassing would it be if her lips or tongue got caught in his zipper?

Finally, she lowered the zip the entire way and let go of his bum to push his trousers down his hips. Her hands skated down his bare legs as they were revealed.

“Lift up,” she murmured, tapping his right calf. Just like with his shoes, he lifted one foot then the other until he was free of his trousers.

Rather than stand and join him, Rose remained crouched before him. James’s brain was so overwhelmed by raw _desire_ that he didn’t quite cotton on to what she was doing until she reached into the front of his pants, wrapped her fingers around his hard length, and inched the waistband of his boxer-briefs down his hips. He shuddered when his erection met with the cooler air of her flat, and he nearly shouted when her tongue licked a long, broad line up his cock.

“God,” he said through clenched teeth, squeezing his hands into fists yet again.

She grinned around him. The sight was so erotic that James worried he was going to make an absolute _embarrassment_ of himself. Frantically trying to think about anything but Rose and what her mouth was currently doing, James recited the periodic table of elements song and made a list of his upcoming assignments, crafting a schedule in his brain. It worked—he didn’t feel as in danger of popping off within the next fifteen seconds, which meant he could slowly begin to lose himself in the exquisite sensations brought about by her lips and teeth and tongue.

All too soon, though, she pulled off of him, panting slightly.

“God, I love when you do that,” he groaned, desperate for more friction.

Sensing that, Rose replaced her mouth with her hand, stroking him lazily but with a tight fist. James sighed, thrusting with her rhythm. He was so hard, so worked up, he wasn’t sure how he would last once he was inside her.

“I love doing that,” she said. “I’m not finished with you, though. Lie down on the bed.”

A thrill of anticipation shivered through James as he hastily complied, first taking his pants completely off. He tugged the sheets to the foot of the bed and reclined against Rose’s pillows. She was staring at him, and part of him wanted to squirm and cover up, but another part of him was drunk on her expression of sheer _longing_.

She moved to her bedside table and picked up the box of chocolates. After fumbling with the plastic wrapping for a minute, she lifted the lid and peeked inside, scanning the selection. She grabbed a couple pieces and broke them into halves, then quarters.

James ought to be embarrassed to admit he didn’t realize what she intended to do until she laid the first broken piece on his belly. It was caramel-filled, and the sticky confectionery drizzled across his skin not entirely unpleasantly.

“Rose,” he rasped, looking down at himself.

Her hands paused in the middle of breaking the next piece. “Is this all right?”

“Yes. God yes.” His stomach quivered with the effort he was making to not breathe too deeply, lest the chocolate fall off of him.

She smiled down at him and continued crumbling the chocolates until tiny pieces were scattered all over his body. It only took a few minutes before they began melting on his flushed skin. While they did, Rose began to undress.

She first bent down to unstrap her sandals, flinging them into the same corner of the room she’d placed his shoes. Next went her earrings and necklace, which she carefully placed on top of her dresser. Then she reached behind herself. The soft hiss of metal on metal accompanied the lowering of the zipper of her dress. James’s eyes were glued to the front of her dress as it went loose around her chest and shoulders. Rose smirked at him as she held the fabric up with one hand.

Finally, when the zipper was all the way down, Rose dropped her hand, letting the top of her dress fall away. She was left in an inky black strapless bra. The cups were made of a delicate lace that were _almost_ transparent enough for him to see her bare breasts.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his brain humming with white noise as he drank her in. The swell of her breasts, the planes of her belly, the curve of her hips… He would never get enough of her, never tire of seeing her, of exploring her, of loving her. 

Her cheeks reddened, and she stepped completely out of her dress, leaving the navy fabric crumpled on the floor. Her knickers were a match to her bra and were so flimsy that James wasn’t sure how they hadn’t torn yet.

She kept her bra and knickers on though, and she stepped up to the bed, kneeling on the foot of it.

“Looks like you’re a bit messy,” she said, reaching up to trail a fingertip through a smear of chocolate on his thigh.

“Guess you’d better clean it up,” he croaked, fisting his hands into the pillow beneath his head.

“Where to start,” she mused to herself, absently creating whorls and swirls in the chocolate until patterns bloomed across his skin. She then lifted her hand to his mouth. “Want a taste?”

Greedily, he sucked her finger into his mouth, licking it clean and wishing he could have his mouth on more of her. With the way her eyes darkened, he was sure she was thinking the same thing.

She removed her hand to replace it with her mouth, hovering over him to kiss him deeply. Momentarily forgetting that his entire body was a mess of chocolate, he crushed her into him, their upper bodies rubbing together. If Rose cared that she was getting just as sticky as him, she said nothing. Rather, she lowered her hips to rub against him.

He whimpered at the friction and the texture of her lacy knickers along his cock. Shivers overtook his body as he grabbed her arse and guided her into a hard grind against him.

“You feel amazing,” he moaned, his fingers and palms kneading her bum as he pulled her in, in, in.

“So do you,” she breathed. “God, I want you.”

He growled his agreement and before he could slip her knickers to the side so he could slide into her, she shifted her weight off of him. Her skin was smeared with chocolate now too, and James shuddered at the idea of licking it off of her.

She must have had the same thought, because she said, “My turn first.”

Crawling to the foot of the bed, she bent her head over him and licked his thigh, cleaning up the chocolate and raspberry pool. Her tongue tickled through the fine hairs, her saliva cooling against his heated skin.

“God,” he gritted out when she cleaned his other thigh. “I am buying you chocolates every damn day.”

Rose laughed against his leg. “That might be a tad excessive. The box is practically full.”

“Every week, then,” he modified, and he yelped when she bit down on his hip.

She soothed the sting with her tongue, and James was desperate for her to do that again. He was in luck, as she repeated the actions on his other hip. He moaned, hips moving of their own accord to arch into her. With how she was leaning over him, the movement brought his cock into perfect contact with her breasts, still encased in her bra.

“Those need to be naked,” he rasped.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Rose reached behind herself and undid the clasp. She yanked the cups away from herself and chucked them to the floor.

James cursed as her breasts were fully revealed. He slammed his eyes shut when she returned to her previous activity of licking him clean, though this time, she pressed her breasts fully into him. He couldn’t help but arch into her, sliding his cock against her breasts, her nipples.

She groaned into his belly, sucking at the sensitive skin. Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around his erection and guided it until it was nestled in the valley between her breasts.

“Oh God,” he choked. “ _Fuck_.”

She smirked up at him. “Like this, do you?”

James could barely get out a coherent reply when she pressed her arms inward, squeezing her breasts around him. The _heat_ … the _friction_ … Her breasts were velvet-soft and smooth; he glided effortlessly through them, between them.

The pressure at the base of his spine ached in warning. Oh God, he was going to lose himself. He thrust helplessly, grunting as he tried to keep his release at bay. Rose must have realized he was fighting a losing battle.

“Want to finish like this?” she asked, tracing her tongue over the ridge of his ribcage.

“I… _Rose_ …” he gasped, not knowing what he wanted. He wanted to let go, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure mounting low in his belly; but he never wanted this night to end. There was something so addictive about hanging in the balance between pleasure and desire, and as much as he wanted to come, he also wanted to stay in this heady limbo all night long. He wasn’t entirely sure his body was going to give him a choice, though, not as every cell was focused on finding his pleasure.

“James,” she whispered, his name rolling off her tongue in a sensual caress. “You can let go. Or I can stop. Your choice.”

Stop? Oh, no. No, no, no. He absolutely did not want that. The mere thought of stopping, of her moving off of him, made him nearly frantic to finish.

_Fuck it._

“Don’t stop,” he begged, giving in to the tightening coil of pleasure. “Please don’t stop.”

She grinned wickedly and pressed her breasts even closer together, increasing the friction around him. Her mouth returned to his abdomen, licking and sucking at the remains of chocolate she could reach.

He was shaking, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and an uncontrollable _need_ that he couldn’t prevent even if he wanted to. And he didn’t particularly want to. 

His muscles tightened in anticipation as his hips rocked faster and faster and faster until, with a garbled curse, he was consumed. Time was meaningless as he free-fell through oblivion, aware of absolutely nothing but the ecstasy racing up his spine, through his veins.

Again and again he throbbed his release, crying out with each hot wave and each nip of Rose’s teeth at his belly. Bright lights burst behind his eyes as he dug his head into his pillows, his body bowing off the bed to press closer to the sensations rocketing through him.

Finally, when he thought he might never return to consciousness, the overwhelming pleasure receded, leaving him exhausted and boneless. His chest heaved and his heart pounded in a strong, steady beat.

“Shit,” he croaked.

Lips brushed a feather-light kiss to his belly button, then a tongue swiped across his stomach in slow, tender strokes. His vision was a little wobbly when he opened his eyes. Rose was draped across him, her breasts resting atop his softened cock, nestling it gently. Her cheek was pillowed against his stomach, her head rising and falling with his slow breaths.

“Rose, I… _God_ , that felt fantastic,” he mumbled, reaching down to card his fingers through her hair.

“I’m glad,” she said simply. “That was so much fun for me too. Thank you for letting me do that.”

“I wish I’d held out longer,” he admitted.

But Rose shook her head. “It was perfect. _You_ were perfect.”

He smiled sleepily at her and sucked in a big breath, trying to fight back a yawn.

“You’ve still got some chocolate on you,” Rose said, crawling up his body. “Don’t worry, I won’t be so intense this time.”

“I think you’d give me a heart attack if you went at me again like you just did.”

Rose straddled his hips and, after giving him a quick kiss on the lips, licked up the lingering chocolate smears. Her soft touches sent sparks of muted pleasure through him, little aftershocks that made him even drowsier.

“I’d love to do that to you some time,” he said quietly, mostly to keep himself from falling asleep. He couldn’t leave her hanging, after all. “And I don’t mean with the chocolate—although that would be delightful—but, y’know… taking control. If that’s something you would be comfortable with, that is.”

“I think I would like that with you,” she said, smiling a bit shyly. “I would trust you.”

He hummed and forced open his eyes when he felt her curl up against his side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, furrowing his brow. 

“Er… cuddling?”

James rolled his eyes. “Unless I am an oblivious idiot, you haven’t come yet.”

“You _are_ an oblivious idiot sometimes,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him as she smirked. “But no, I haven’t come. That’s all right. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“Last I checked,” he drawled, “I’ve got fingers and a tongue I can use to get you off.”

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, tucking her face into his neck and breathing him in.

“Are you turned on?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Then I am going to take care of you,” he said simply. “Besides, I got you all sticky. It’s only fair I clean you off as thoroughly as you cleaned me.”

“Oh?” she asked, a smile evident in her voice.

“Mhm.” He shifted onto his side, encouraging her to lie on her back. She did. Her pupils were blown wide and goosebumps raised the hairs on her arms and puckered her nipples. Well, he knew where he was going to start. 

Hovering above her breasts, he purred, “Rose Tyler, I am going to lick you _everywhere_ ,” then lowered his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter 💜 Comments from you all make my day.
> 
> Next update: whenever I finish March's scenes... comments give me happy brain chemicals, and those happy brain chemicals give me the motivation and desire to write. So if you want March's montage as soon as humanly possible, consider leaving a comment 😉😘
> 
> Also consider subscribing to this story and/or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last of the montages, for now. The next several chapters are the regular minute-by-minute play-by-play.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~5900 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen

**March**

James frowned at Rose over the top of his glasses when she cleared her throat for what seemed like the hundredth time over the past thirty minutes.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he finally offered.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I’ve got a tickle that won’t go away.”

“A _drink_ might help with that,” he suggested, trying not to sound too annoyed, but, well, he had an exam the following day and it was very difficult to concentrate when someone was “ahem-chmm-ack-hem”ing every five seconds in an otherwise silent room.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna go home,” Rose said, closing her textbook and her notebook with more force than strictly necessary.

Instantly chagrined, he said, “Wait, no. I’m sorry. Don’t go.”

“I’m obviously distracting you,” she replied, stuffing her school supplies into her bag.

“No,” he insisted. The way she arched her eyebrow at him made his cheeks warm. “Well, maybe a little. But honestly, Rose. Fill up your water bottle and stay. There’s a fountain at the end of the hall.”

“I’ve gone through my entire water bottle, and my throat is still tickling,” she said. “I’m not sure drinking more will accomplish anything apart from making me have to wee every hour.”

“Please don’t go,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said with half a smile. “Really. You’ve got an exam tomorrow. Stay here. Study. We can hang out tomorrow.”

James wanted to argue further, but he really _did_ need to study. He’d been putting it off all week, and now he was scrambling to cram everything into his brain.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Maybe pick up some orange juice or Vitamin C tablets, just in case you’re fighting off a bug.”

“Sure,” she said, and James struggled to not roll his eyes at her dismissal. She stepped up to him and bent down to kiss the top of his head. “Good luck. Let me know how your exam goes tomorrow.”

He leaned up to kiss her properly, but she pulled away. “In case I am getting sick, I don’t want to infect you.”

He wanted to say sod it and give her a proper goodbye kiss, but he would be utterly miserable if he had to take an exam while fighting a cold. So he nodded and accepted another kiss to the top of his head and watched Rose walk out of their study cubicle in the library.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was far more productive now that he was alone. He raced through his class notes, highlighting definitions and mathematical formulas, then moved on to the set of practice problems his professor had recommended.

When he could do each and every problem without error, James packed up his supplies and was surprised to find that it was dark when he exited the library. Well, considering it was technically still winter, it was always dark in the evenings. But a glance at his phone told him it was nearly eight o’clock. No wonder he was starving.

“Leaving the library now,” he texted to Rose. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

He stopped at a fast-food drive-thru for a quick dinner on the way home, knowing he wouldn’t feel like cooking, and not particularly wanting to scrounge up enough snacks to fill his grumbling belly. He ate half of his French fries on the drive, and was tempted to tuck into his burger, but knew he would end up with half of it in his lap.

When he opened his front door, Pippin greeted him loudly to voice his displeasure at his dinner being delayed for so long.

“Sorry, bud. I’m hungry too,” he said, tossing his backpack and dinner onto his kitchen table.

He fed his cats and gave them all a quick pet—even Gollum—before diving into his own meal. Though it made him feel bloated, the greasy double-cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate milkshake hit the spot, and he was drowsy and content by the time he’d finished eating.

The tranquility evaporated, however, when he realized Rose hadn’t responded to his earlier text. Bugger, was she more annoyed with him than he realized? He had been a bit of a prat, getting annoyed over such an inconsequential thing as her having a minor cough, but she hadn’t seemed _that_ upset with him. Unless he had been so absorbed in his studies that he’d misread her mood…

“I’m sorry I was snippy with you today,” he sent. “Truly. I didn’t mean to snap.”

He drummed his fingers across his knee as he waited for her response, but one never came. At least, not until an hour later, by which time, James was about to drive to her flat and get on his knees to beg her forgiveness in person.

_It’s fine. I’m not upset with you. I was asleep._

James frowned at his phone. “Asleep?”

_Yeah. I took a nap. Not sure it counts as a nap though when I was asleep for over three hours._

“Are you feeling all right?”

_I think I’m sick. My cough has gotten worse and I’m really tired. I’m going back to bed. Love you xo._

“Do you need me to bring you anything? I can swing by tonight? Or I can bring something tomorrow morning when I pick you up?”

_I’ll let you know,_ Rose answered. _G’night James._

“Nighty night. Sleep well. Love you.”

James felt even worse now that he had gotten short with her that afternoon. Oh well. There was nothing to do about it now. He would make it up to her tomorrow.

Except, when he awoke in the morning, a message from Rose was waiting for him.

_Don’t come by to pick me up. I’m taking the day off. Good luck with your exam! Xoxo_

“Oh no. You’re really feeling that poorly?”

_Yeah. Can’t stop coughing. Not sure my classmates would appreciate me coughing every other second. You didn’t appreciate it ;)_

James winced at his phone. “I am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get short with you.”

Rose sent him the winking kiss emoji. _I know. You’re lucky I love you. Try not to be a twat in the future._

“Scout’s honor.” He found a GIF of a salute and attached that as well.

Now that he didn’t need to fetch Rose, James had time to kill and therefore treated himself to coffee and a chocolate croissant before his exam. The coffee shop was just beginning to bustle with students when James joined the short queue and ordered his breakfast. He polished off the croissant as he hiked up the hilly campus to his thermodynamics class.

He was, surprisingly, one of the last people there. All of his classmates had their heads bent together, doing some last-minute cramming before the exam. James slid into his usual seat in the middle of the room and tried to ignore the chatter, lest their voices be the ones he heard as he was trying to recall the facts and formulas he had meticulously memorized the day before.

His phone buzzed with a few minutes to go before class.

_Good luck!! You’re gonna nail this! Xoxo_

“Thank you.” James nearly dropped his phone when the door banged open. “Gotta go. Prof is here. Get some rest, my love.”

He was probably a terrible boyfriend to admit it, but all thoughts of Rose left his head when his professor distributed the exam packet. It was like his brain had compartments, and he tucked Rose inside one of them and opened up the compartment that housed his thermodynamics knowledge, letting that one take over for the next hour.

Though he finished the exam with fifteen minutes to spare, James stayed sitting to double check his work and to make it appear as though he was still taking the exam. It was a bit embarrassing to always be the first one done, plus he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. There was a surprising—and disheartening—amount of animosity in the world of academia whenever someone appeared to effortlessly excel at something.

Now that he didn’t need it anymore, thermodynamics slipped into its own compartment in his brain, and Rose came out again. He hoped she was feeling better, and he wondered how important his physics and political ideologies lectures would be that afternoon, or whether he could skip them and go visit Rose. But she would know immediately that he skipped classes to be with her and would give him a stern telling off.

Reluctantly, he retired to a couch in the library to pass the two hours until his back-to-back noon and one o’clock classes.

He went straight to Rose’s flat when he had finished for the day, and he bounced on his toes as he waited for her to open her front door after he’d knocked.

She looked _miserable_. Her hair was limp but mussed from her pillow and the dark bags under her eyes were made worse by her pallid face.

“James?” she croaked, and that one word was enough to send her into a coughing fit. James winced at the wet, barking cough that he could practically hear rattling her chest.

“Blimey, you sound awful,” he said, stepping into her flat.

“I feel awful,” she said, her voice dying mid-way through her sentence. “How was your exam?”

“Fine,” he said. “Think I did well. Have you eaten anything? Can I make you some soup?”

“I haven’t got much in. I had some porridge for breakfast. And been drinking so much water I’m basically living on the toilet.”

James reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers to her forehead and cheeks. She was burning up.

“Oh, Rose,” he murmured. “I’ll go out and get you some groceries. Then when I return, I’m gonna make a huge vat of chicken noodle soup. Go to sleep now, love.”

The fact that she didn’t argue with him nailed home just how badly she felt. He kissed the top of her head and walked with her to her bedroom to make sure she didn’t stumble over her feet. The small rubbish bin by her bed was full of tissues, and the water bottle on her nightstand only had a few mouthfuls left.

“One minute,” he said, grabbing the bin and bottle and retreating to the kitchen. He dumped the bin and filled the bottle, and when he returned, she was nearly half-asleep.

“I’m so sorry you’re unwell,” he whispered, fussing with her blankets to make sure she was completely covered. “Sleep, love. I’m going to borrow the key to your flat. I’ll be back soon. Call me if you need anything.”

“M’kay,” she slurred, before she tucked her face under her mound of blankets and coughed violently for half a minute.

She was panting and wheezing by the end of it, and James’s heart broke.

“Don’t wanna get you sick,” she moaned, tugging the sheets completely over her head.

“I’ll be fine,” he soothed, though he made a mental note to take a bunch of Vitamin C supplements to hopefully help bolster his immune system. He stroked the lump he assumed was her head then left her flat to visit the nearby grocery store.

The shop was virtually empty, thanks to it being the middle of a Monday afternoon. He raced through the store, collecting a variety of foodstuffs, not only for the soup he was going to make, but typical food items he knew Rose bought weekly. He figured she wouldn’t be in the mood to do her regular shopping for quite a while yet.

When he returned to her flat, he poked his head into her bedroom, but she was fast asleep. Leaving her, he went to the kitchen and tried to make as little noise as possible to start on her soup. Every now and then, he would hear a wracking cough coming from the bedroom, but she remained in her room for the next hour and a half.

James only realized she’d emerged from her bedroom when he heard the toilet flush. He glanced over the back of the loveseat, where he had been idly reading his political ideologies textbook. Rose didn’t look any better rested than she had when he first arrived. She was bundled up a hoodie he recognized as one of his and had a quilt wrapped around her like a cape.

“Feel any better?” he asked sympathetically.

“No,” she said. Well, rather, she mouthed. No sound came out apart from a rasping squeak. She winced and tried again, but the same noise came out.

“Don’t try to talk,” James said, vaulting to his feet. “Here. Sit down. Can I make you a cuppa tea with honey and lemon? Try to soothe those vocal cords?”

She nodded and curled up in the space he’d vacated, tucking her feet beneath herself and covering up with the quilt until she was a round little ball.

James narrated his actions as he boiled the water and steeped her tea, just for something to fill the silence. He fetched her water bottle from her bedroom and handed it to her along with two decongestants.

Rose dutifully swallowed down the pills and chugged the remainder of her water, then accepted the cup of tea. She wrapped her fingers around the mug and tucked her nose against the rim, simply breathing in the scent and the steam. James refilled her water bottle and filled a glass for himself, realizing he hadn’t drunk anything all afternoon.

He then plopped onto the sofa beside her and angled his body to face her. She mirrored his position, uncurling her legs to place her feet in his lap. He smiled at the fuzzy pink socks she had on.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, glancing at her thermostat. It was a few degrees warmer than she usually kept it.

She nodded and sipped her tea. She gave him a thumbs up, which he took to mean that the tea was good. He gave her feet a small squeeze, then idly began massaging them. He rubbed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, then her ankle, then he made his way up her calf. Rose moaned and pressed her legs closer to him.

He smiled to himself and was more deliberate in how he rubbed her feet, enjoying the way her entire body slumped into the sofa.

After a few minutes, she prodded her toes into his belly, prompting him to look over.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, exaggerating the words so he could read her lips, “for being here.”

“There is nowhere else I would rather be,” he said honestly. “It’s rubbish being sick. It’s even more rubbish being sick and trying to take care of yourself.”

Besides, it wasn’t as though he expected them to go through their lives together without either of them getting ill. His plan was to spend the rest of his life with Rose, after all, and life was as messy and gross as it was enchanting and serene. There would be days when one or both of them was ill, or in a foul mood. And if they decided to have children one day, that would just add to the beautiful chaos of their life. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. If life was going to be a rollercoaster of ups and downs, there was no one else he would want to go on this ride with.

After a murmured “I love you”, James resumed the process of massaging Rose’s feet.

oOoOo

It took Rose a full week before she started feeling better, and nearly two until her cough went away. Unfortunately, that meant they had to cancel their spring break plans. Guilty though she was, there was no way she was up for a trip to Washington, D.C. when she was congested and feverish. Moreover, their fellow travelers probably wouldn’t have appreciated being near her while she coughed up her lungs every five minutes.

“Don’t worry about it,” James soothed when he told her he’d canceled their train tickets and hotel reservation. “You would be utterly miserable, and I don’t want that. We can hang out together here while you get better.”

“I was excited to see the city,” Rose grumbled, her voice raspy. “And all the museums.”

“We can see it another time,” James said simply, before he plied her with more soup. “Maybe next month, for the cherry blossom festival. It’s beautiful to go down there when all the cherry trees are in bloom. We can make a long weekend of it, if you don’t mind skipping a day or two of classes.”

Though disappointed, Rose agreed to the rain check of their plans.

Gradually, her energy returned and their spring break wasn’t a complete waste. They took a day trip to Lancaster County to explore the quaint towns and shops.

They woke up obnoxiously early to make the hour and a half drive in time to have breakfast at Shady Maple Smorgasbord, a huge buffet-style restaurant that was one of the main features and hot spots of the county. Though they made it to the restaurant by eight o’clock, it was utterly _packed_ with people. Rose was dismayed to see the long line that extended out the front door, and turned to James to see where else they could have breakfast.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “we’ll be in in no time.”

Rose kept her doubts to herself as she hooked her arm through James’s and they joined the end of the queue. He was right; the line moved steadily and they’d only been waiting for around ten or fifteen minutes by the time they made it to the front register.

“Two please,” James said, forking over his credit card.

The cashier swiped his card and handed him his receipt, then motioned for them to walk down the corridor, where they would be seated momentarily.

Rose finally realized why the queue had been moving so smoothly—there had to be hundreds of tables spread throughout the dining area.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “How many people can this restaurant hold? This is larger than the university’s dining hall!”

The hostess must have heard her, because she beamed and said, “We can seat approximately twenty-three hundred guests.”

“Oh my God,” Rose repeated dumbly.

James giggled at her and squeezed her hand, prompting her to follow their hostess through the labyrinth of tables, booths, and other diners.

“If you think this is incredible, wait ‘til you see the buffet,” James said, winking at her. “Come on, Rose Tyler!”

She allowed herself to be pulled away from the seating area and towards the kitchen area. Across the entire length of the room spanned a two-sided buffet station. Rose was baffled by the sheer _volume_ of food—pancakes, waffles, toast, French toast, half a dozen varieties of bacon and sausages, something called scrapple, a dozen styles of eggs, an assortment of fresh fruits, cereal, and more.

“It’s basically a human feeding trough,” James said, bumping his hip into hers as he guided her along the buffet line. “I love taking a bit of everything and seeing how much stuff I can fit on one plate. But if you’re in the mood for something more specific, they have an omelet and pancake station over there.”

He pointed behind her shoulder to the two areas where dozens of people were lined up. Too overwhelmed by what she could order at those two stations that wasn’t in the buffet, Rose instead followed her boyfriend’s lead and took small portions everything she knew she liked and stole bites from James of anything she was unsure about. (Scrapple, as it turned out, was just as unappetizing as the ingredients from which it was made.)

By the time they left the restaurant, she was absolutely stuffed and felt as though she would never want to eat again.

“Good, eh?” James asked, patting his distended stomach.

“I think I just ate my entire daily caloric allowance. But yes, it was very good. Thank you.”

She leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek, then followed him outside to his car.

They spent the day driving around the country and exploring the various shops that sold homemade goods: quilts, jams and jellies, candies, pies, furniture, candles, toys, decorations, and everything in between.

“God, it’s beautiful out here,” Rose breathed, watching the rolling hills and farmlands as they drove on winding country roads.

“Mmm,” he agreed. “Some days, I think it would be nice to live out here, or somewhere similar. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city. But then there are days where I think I would miss the perks that come from city life.”

“Where do you think you want to end up living?” Rose asked curiously. After all, if her plan was to spend her life with James, she ought to know where he would like to settle down. She hadn’t given it much thought; she always assumed she would travel home to the UK, but here, with James, she didn’t think she would mind staying in America forever.

“Not sure,” he answered. “I really love the United States. I’ve lived here for the past seven years or so. But I loved the UK. I guess it all depends on you. You haven’t been here as long; you might prefer to go back to England. Or you might not be able to get permanent residency. And it depends on how the Clinton administration handles immigration. No matter where we end up, I think I would prefer a small city. A place where there are a variety of things to do, but not a huge city like London or New York. Somewhere safe, where we can raise some kids.” His cheeks went scarlet. “Er, _maybe_ raise some kids. If we decide to have them.”

Rose blinked slowly, dazed. She’d never given any thought about having children. There had been one pregnancy scare with Jimmy, and she had absolutely _loathed_ the idea of having a child at that time. But she had only been seventeen. Now she was nearly twenty-two, in a serious, committed relationship with her very best friend. Could she see them having kids one day? She didn’t know; however, she found that she did not have a violent opposition to the idea of children with James.

“You want kids?” she asked casually, although it was more of a statement than a question.

“Only… only if you do,” he stammered, but Rose could practically hear the longing in his voice.

“I’m still undecided,” she confessed, her heart squeezing at the subtle drooping of his shoulders. “I don’t want to promise you something this important. But I’m not entirely opposed to it, either. Let’s… let’s revisit this conversation in a few years, when we’ve finished our degrees and have stable jobs, yeah?”

He smiled at her, and she was glad that the expression was genuine. “Yeah.”

oOoOo

Rose was relieved to see that they weren’t the only couple who had dressed up. Granted, a majority of the people in the theater were dressed normally, but they saw at least a dozen other people in various outfits and costumes. And really, with the way James’s eyes shone with excitement, she couldn’t feel too self-conscious.

When he had come to her the other week asking if not only would she like to attend the midnight premiere of the live-action _Beauty and the Beast_ film, but attend in costume, Rose had nearly declined on the spot. But he’d begged and pouted until she eventually gave in; they’d spent the next week shopping at thrift stores for clothing they could alter. Rose was pleasantly surprised to find out that, not only could James sew, he could sew very well.

“My mum loved to sew,” he explained as he made alterations to the golden dress they had found for Rose. He added layers to the skirts to fill it out a bit, and he fastened some beads and sequins to make it sparkle. “She loved to make quilts and to repurpose old clothing into something new. She started teaching me when I was old enough not to get my fingers caught in the sewing machine. It’s a useful skill; I can hem and adjust my clothes if it isn’t fitting exactly the way I’d like it to.”

“Jack of all trades,” Rose said, pillowing her head on his shoulder to watch him put the finishing touches on her gown.

Presently, Rose watched James standing in the concessions queue. She admired the way his outfit had come together, with his fitted black trousers that clung deliciously to his legs, frilly white undershirt, and blue suit jacket. He’d slicked his hair back and the ends were barely long enough that he’d clipped a blue bow to it.

She, meanwhile, had opted for a wig rather than dye her hair brown, and the ends cascaded around her shoulders while the rest of it was knotted atop her head in a bun. The skirts of her golden ball gown fluttered around her ankles as she absently swayed to the quiet music filtering through the lobby’s stereo system.

James returned to her a few minutes later with a large tub of popcorn, a bottle of water, and a large cup filled with brown slush.

“Er…?”

“A slushie!” James crowed, taking a long sip from the straw. “Well, I think _Icee_ is technically the brand. Coke slushie. It’s marvelous.”

“I thought you didn’t like soda,” Rose asked, though she took the cup from James and tried it.

She realized why he would drink this as he said, “The carbonation is basically gone, or at least masked by the slush. No uncomfortable fizzies on my tongue.”

Rose nodded and continued absently sipping from the cup as they walked down the hall and towards the theater room. She’d only ever had fruity slushes, but had to concede that the soft drink slush was nice too.

A huge cardboard cutout of the Beast’s castle stood at the end of the corridor, and James asked, “Can we take a photo in front of that?”

Rose nodded and they set their snacks on a nearby bench, then asked a fellow cinema patron to take their photo. They wrapped their arms snugly around each other’s waists and beamed at the person holding James’s phone.

“I took a couple, in case some are better than others,” the stranger said, returning the phone to James. “Excellent costumes.”

“Thanks,” James said. “Cheers, mate.”

They collected their popcorn and beverages, then entered the theater. It was only half-full when they walked in, so they had no trouble finding a place to sit. Rose was relieved to see that the seats were luxuriously wide, easily accommodating the thick skirts of her dress.

Rose hadn’t seen _Beauty and the Beast_ since she was a small child, but she did remember it had been one of her favorites. This adaptation made her fall in love with the film all over again. She fell in love with James all over again, too, as he hummed the songs under his breath, bouncing and shimmying in his seat with the rhythm.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear after he’d finished bopping to _Be Our Guest_.

He turned to her and grinned, planting a quick, sloppy kiss to her lips before returning his attention to the screen. She snuggled into his side and held his hand throughout the remainder of the film.

“God, that was fantastic!” James moaned as the credits began to roll. “The music… the casting… Emma did a brilliant job with the role. Dan, too. Very easy on the eyes, isn’t he? Not that Emma’s not, she’s beautiful, but Dan Stevens… and his _voice_ …” He sighed happily. “And don’t get me started on Ewan McGregor.”

Rose giggled as she twined her fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re secure enough in yourself to admit that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he squawked, indignant. “You know I love you very much, and that I think you’re absolutely beautiful. But I can appreciate the beauty of other people too. Just because I find someone physically attractive doesn’t mean I want to… to _shag_ them or anything.”

“I know,” Rose soothed. “I was just messin’ with you.”

James smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“I love that you’re so comfortable with me to tell me these things,” Rose said, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious or defensive.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and settled back into his seat to listen to the music that accompanied the credits. Rose rested her head on his shoulder, drowsy. It was rare for her to stay up this late, but she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. Though she’d had reservations at first, she was glad James had convinced her to dress up for the show.

They exited the theater when the credits were finished, and Rose shivered when they walked out into the frigid late-March night. They nearly ran to his car, but it was as cold in there as it was outside. James reached into the back seat for the blanket he always kept there.

“Thanks,” Rose said, tucking it around her shoulders.

“Ooof, I should’ve visited the loo before we left,” James said, grimacing as he fixed the seatbelt strap so it didn’t dig as hard into his lower abdomen. “Ah well. We’ll be home soon.”

“If you get truly desperate, there’s this slushie cup,” Rose said, wiggling it at him.

He scrunched his nose. “Ew. No thanks. I can hold it.”

He must have really had to go, though, because he drove faster than normal. When they made it to his house, he unlocked the front door and left her behind as he sprinted down the hall to the guest bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind himself. She heard a lot of muffled cursing, then she tried her best to tune out the sound of him using the toilet. Instead, she turned to the two drowsy cats curled up on the couch and absently stroked their chins.

James returned to the living room a minute later, his dress shirt untucked from his trousers.

“Feel better?” she asked with a smirk.

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry. I had to wee since the ballroom scene, then forgot about it. I really had to go. God, that’s embarrassing. You just heard everything, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she confessed. “But if we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, we ought to get used to all bodily functions, eh?” She came up to him and slung her arms loosely around his shoulders. “Besides, I’m quite familiar with your private parts by now. I know your cock isn’t only used for sex.”

His cheeks turned an adorable shade of crimson. “It’s still a bit weird, though. But something I’ll get used to, no doubt.”

“That’s the spirit,” she laughed, planting a firm kiss to his lips. “Come on, you. I’m exhausted. And I have to wee too—if it makes you feel better, you can listen in.”

James rolled his eyes and pinched her side, but dutifully followed her down the hall to their bedroom.

Rose slept like a rock that night. She had no dreams, and was barely aware when James slipped out of bed to get ready for his morning lab.

“See you later,” he murmured to her, kissing her cheek. “Love you.”

She grunted something that hopefully resembled an “I love you, too,” but with the way he laughed at her, she wasn’t sure she managed. She fell right back to sleep and didn’t stir until her alarm woke her up an hour and a half later.

Groaning, she silenced it, then grabbed her phone and rolled over to hug James’s pillow to her chest. It smelled like him, and she buried her nose deeper into the fabric while she mindlessly scrolled on her phone. A couple texts from James and a message on WhatsApp awaited her.

She opened James’s messages first.

_Life-giving bean juice acquired._ He’d attached a selfie of himself holding a large cup of coffee in front of his face. She grinned at the photo.

_I forgot to bring food. Wanna meet for lunch in the dining hall?_

“You sexy Beast,” she typed, adding a winking kiss emoji. “And yeah, lunch sounds great. I’m still tucked away in bed.”

Little dots popped up seconds before James answered with the looking eyes emoji and the words _Pics please??_

She rolled her eyes and grinned to herself as she tucked her face into the pillow and gathered up the blankets to her ears, obscuring her from view. She snapped the photo—she was barely visible—and sent it to him with a wink.

He replied with a frowning face, then the large-eyed pleading face.

Laughing, Rose rolled onto her back and pushed the blankets down to her hips. Her camisole had shifted, and though her breasts were covered, there was a generous amount of top- and side-boob on display, as well as a sliver of her lower belly. She stuck her tongue out at the camera and snapped the photo before sending it to him.

He responded with the drooling face, heart eyes, star eyes, and half a dozen red hearts.

_You’re gorgeous. Wish I was there with you._

“Hmmm, and what would we be doing?”

_Definitely not this damn physics lab._

_Sigh. Sorry, love. I gotta go._

_My prof is gonna incinerate me with a laser if I look at my phone one more time._

_Love you loads! See you for lunch._

“See ya xoxo.”

Rose groaned and stretched, then rolled over onto her side once more. She had another ten minutes before she absolutely _needed_ to get up and get a shower. So she checked her email—noting with delight that her afternoon composition class was cancelled—and her social media.

She finally remembered the awaiting message on WhatsApp, and wondered which of her London friends had messaged her.

None of them, as it turned out. There was no name, just a number that was undoubtedly the London area. The message was a simple _Hey._

Hmm. Wrong number? Scam message? One of her friends with a new number?

“Sorry, who’s this?” Rose asked, then she rolled out of bed to get ready for her day.

She showered hurriedly, not bothering to shave her legs despite not having done it all week. James, thankfully, didn’t care if her legs were stubbly, a refreshing change from some of the other blokes she’d dated.

As she finished blow drying her hair, her phone buzzed: another text from the mystery number. She turned off the hair dryer and picked up her phone. Her blood turned to ice at the new message.

_Aw come on. Don’t be like that Rosie._

Nausea roiled through her stomach and clawed up her throat, making her head swim. Her body went cold even as sweat prickled across her brow. There had only ever been one person who called her Rosie… 

Her phone buzzed with another message, but she already knew who the mystery number belonged to without needing to be told.

_It’s me. Jimmy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought of the chapter 💜 Comments from you all make my day.
> 
> Next update: whenever I finish the next chapter... comments give me happy brain chemicals, and those happy brain chemicals give me the motivation and desire to write. So if you want more content sooner, consider leaving a comment 😘
> 
> Also consider subscribing to this story and/or this series if you want to stay up-to-date with new chapters and (eventually) new future stories!
> 
> P.S. -- I know that the live-action Beauty and the Beast came out in mid-March 2017, but I tweaked the release date to late March for the purpose of this story.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose deals with hearing from her ex-boyfriend.
> 
> Triggers for: anxiety, panic attack, flashback of abusive relationship, negative self-talk/self-loathing. There is no explicit abuse shown, just Rose remembering/recalling it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~5400 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen

Rose gaped at her phone for a long moment. The screen eventually went dark, leaving her staring at her wide-eyed, open-mouthed reflection.

_It’s me. Jimmy_.

Three words. Three tiny, little, _stupid_ words, and her good mood abruptly vanished, leaving her cold and clammy. Gone was the high of flirting with James; gone was the excitement of having a lunch date with him.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, jarring her back to reality and startling her so badly that she flinched and nearly tossed her phone across the room. Praying for a text from James— _anything_ to distract her from the WhatsApp message—she carefully typed in her passcode. Her phone buzzed in rapid succession in her hands, and she nearly wept with relief; James was the only one who ever texted her in a series of individual messages like that.

_Lab’s done! Dunno why my prof was so miffed I was on my phone. Was the first to finish the lab._

_And it’s not like I was cheating by looking up all the answers._

_Though really, what would it matter since it’s lab and we can use any resource at our disposal to complete the lab._

_I think he’s still annoyed I aced his exam. Well. Technically a 99%. But he marked off a point for a silly technicality._

_I’m rambling, sorry. My point was, I could swing by the house to pick you up, if you want? If you haven’t left yet._

The last thing Rose wanted was to see James in person. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She craved James’s comforting presence. But he would be able to immediately tell that something was wrong, and she wasn’t exactly in the mood to dig too far into her emotions right now.

“I’ve called for an Uber,” Rose lied, hating herself even as she sent the message. “It’s just down the block.”

_Ahh, rotten timing. I’ll be hanging out in the library ‘til lunch time, if you get to the school early._

Unable to think of anything to say, she replied with a handful of heart emojis and finished her morning routine, leaving Jimmy’s message unanswered. Her brain turned fuzzy and her heart raced any time she thought about opening the messaging app to reply. What could she even say to him?

She kept checking her phone, though, certain that a new message from him would be waiting for her. After all, he knew she’d seen his messages, since she’d stupidly responded to his initial “hey”. But nothing else was there. He didn’t demand that she talk to him; he didn’t try to initiate a voice or video chat. It was like he was waiting for her to make the next move. What on earth even _was_ the next move? What did she have to say to him?

Three years. It had been over three years since she had heard from him. The last thing she had said to him was that she’d ended the lease to their flat, and to pack up his stuff, otherwise she gave the landlady permission to throw away anything that was left over. To this day, Rose didn’t know if Jimmy had ever collected his stuff. Rose had blocked his number and removed him from all of her social media accounts, and, for all intents and purposes, boxed him up in her memories and threw away the key.

But he had now burst out of that box, and with it came all of the pent up hurt and anger she felt towards him. What right did he have to force himself back into her life like the last three years hadn’t happened? What right did he have to be a dark little rain cloud blotting out the sunshine of her relationship with James? Furthermore, how did he even get her new number? She’d changed it when she moved to the United States and only gave it out to her mother and her friends. Had he somehow _stalked her_?

That thought chilled her to the bone. Did he know where she lived? Did he know where she went to school? What if he was on campus, waiting for her? What if he never expected her to reply to his messages, so he showed up in person to _make_ her talk to him.

Rose gagged and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. Her entire body was shaking as sweat trickled down her spine and across her forehead. Black specks dotted her vision, which was throbbing in time with her heart. She remained in limbo for nearly a minute, unsure of whether she was actually going to vomit.

What did Jimmy want from her? Why couldn’t he stay away, tucked neatly into the corner of her mind she rarely visited, not even with James. She loved him, she loved him _so much_ , more than she’d loved anyone else before… but it felt _wrong_ to spoil what she had with James with memories of Jimmy. Even the tidbits she had shared with James already felt… _dirty_.

After another couple of minutes, Rose didn’t feel as in danger of throwing up her guts, but it was a close call. Any time she looked at her phone, her stomach churned and her tongue turned leaden in her mouth. She needed to get moving, though. If she didn’t call an Uber in the next five minutes, she would be late to class.

Sucking in a deep breath, Rose opened up her phone—noting with relief there were no new WhatsApp notifications—and opened the Uber app. She was in luck; there was a driver a few streets over. She requested a ride, then went to the mirror to wash her face of the cold sweat. She unfortunately washed off all of her makeup, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Returning the jumper she’d intended to wear to the closet, Rose instead grabbed one of James’s hoodies and donned that instead. The mere scent of him slowed her racing heart; not a lot, but enough that the tremors in her hands eased.

Her phone buzzed in her hands, causing her stomach to roll. But it was just the Uber driver, informing her he’d arrived.

Cursing, Rose raced to the kitchen for her backpack. There were a few notebooks scattered across the table. Not having the time to figure out which ones she needed, she scooped up everything and dumped it into her bag. At the front door, she slipped on her trainers without tying the laces and ran outside.

“Sorry, sorry!” she panted. “Bit of a late start this mornin’.”

“No worries,” the driver said, then he turned around in James’s driveway and began driving to the school.

Thankfully the driver wasn’t a chatty one, because Rose wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold a conversation. She kept unlocking her phone and opening Jimmy’s message, then relocking her phone. What was she even supposed to say?

When the driver dropped her off on campus, Rose had to nearly sprint to the academic building where her ten o’clock French class was taught. Slightly sweaty and out of breath, Rose sank into a seat at the back of the classroom and tugged her phone out of the hoodie’s kangaroo pocket. Nothing from Jimmy. Or James.

She fired off a quick message to her boyfriend, telling him she made it safely to class. Then she opened up WhatsApp.

_It’s me. Jimmy_.

There were so many things Rose wanted to tell him, most of which were not at all polite, but she settled on the question that had been sickening her since she first saw his name.

“How the hell did you get my number?”

She silenced her phone and placed it on ‘do not disturb’ mode before slipping it into a pouch of her backpack.

Rose could hardly focus on any of the content in her ten or eleven o’clock lectures, and she nearly called James to cancel their lunch date, but she didn’t want to come up with an excuse. And she didn’t have the nerve to look at her phone, in case Jimmy had texted her back. Her phone was still silenced and on ‘do not disturb’ mode, so unless she checked, she wouldn’t know if she’d gotten a new message.

At noon, Rose made her way to the dining hall, which was utterly packed with students getting lunch. How was she supposed to find James in _this_?

The noise of the crowd was nearly overwhelming, making Rose’s ears ring and her face go clammy. She couldn’t have lunch here.

Just as she was about to turn around and flee the dining hall, a low voice in her ear said, “That hoodie looks familiar.”

She flinched away from the body pressed up against her back, her brain not entirely registering that it was James until she’d stepped away from him.

“Rose?” He was frowning, his brow pinched. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

Rose didn’t know whether to smack James or hug him or begin crying. She settled for a smile that felt far too stiff as she said, “Sorry. Lost in my own head. Er… would it be all right if we took our food somewhere quieter to eat?”

“Of course,” he said. “You sure you’re all right?”

Rose nodded, then led the way into the food court. None of the food looked appetizing, but she knew she ought to eat something since she hadn’t had breakfast. The line for the salad bar was the shortest, so she grabbed a to-go container and filled it with lettuce, spinach, and other vegetable accoutrements.

James had joined the grill queue, which was at least a dozen people long.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Rose told him, needing fresh air.

“Gimme your lunch, I’ll have them ring it up with mine…”

“No,” she interrupted, holding the salad container out of his reach. “Not today. Please.”

“It’s supposed to be a date,” he whined.

Annoyance flared inside her, making her cheeks go hot. “I can pay for myself, James.”

Her words came out much harsher than she meant them to, and he visibly recoiled. _Fuck._

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck. “I- I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

Forcing a smile, Rose rested her hand on his upper arm and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’ll meet you outside. Okay?”

He scanned his eyes across her face. What he was looking for, she didn’t know. She held her smile and hoped it looked reassuring.

“Would you prefer to eat alone?” he asked quietly, his voice nearly masked by the din of the dining hall.

Would she prefer to be alone? She didn’t know. Yes, it would be nice to be able to panic in private, but no, James was keeping the panic at bay. She wanted the morning to not have happened. She wanted to go back to when the mystery number first texted her, and block it from the start.

“I’ll meet you outside,” she repeated, well aware that it wasn’t exactly an answer to his question.

He knew it too, and his shoulders hunched in on themselves before he spun away from her and moved forward in the queue.

Still muttering curses inside her head, Rose went to the refrigerated section and grabbed a bottle of water. With her hands full, she went to the register, set her items on the counter, and rooted through her backpack for her wallet. She couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Shit,” she growled to herself.

It must be in James’s car. She had taken it with her to the cinema the night before, and had stashed it in the center console before the film; she hadn’t remembered to grab it when they’d returned to his house.

“Do you know your student ID?” the cashier asked gently. “I can look up your account that way.”

“I don’t have money in my account,” Rose sighed, digging the heel of her hand into her eyes. She made a mental note to herself to put a few dining dollars into her account as soon as she could, to avoid a situation like this in the future. But that didn’t help her now.

The cashier was beginning to look deeply uncomfortable, the way all cashiers had looked at Rose whenever her card got declined or when she was short on cash and had to select which items to return. Rose was utterly humiliated for holding up the queue, and for what she was about to do.

“My boyfriend’s still in here.” Rose thumbed over her shoulder in the general vicinity James was in. “I’m gonna see if he can lend me a bit of cash. Sorry.”

Rose stepped out of the line and walked into the bustle of the food court.

She was so very tempted to return her water to the fridge and to dump her salad into the trash, but that was wasteful. And she was starting to get hungry. Plus, how would she explain to James why she didn’t have any food?

Well, there was nothing else to do. Scraping her bruised pride off the grimy floor, Rose ambled to the back of the food court towards the grill. James was off to the side, waiting for his meal. His arms were crossed at his chest as he rocked from his heels to his toes.

“Hey,” she muttered. He either was ignoring her, or hadn’t heard her, so she tried again. “Hey.”

He glanced over, eyes wide with surprise. “Rose. Everything all right?”

“No. I forgot my wallet in your car,” she admitted, the tips of her ears stinging with embarrassment.

She’d just _yelled_ at him not three minutes ago when he’d tried to pay for her food. Now here she was, begging for his help. _Pathetic._

Glaring at her shoes so she didn’t have to see his “I told you so” smirk, Rose waited for the gloating. Or for him to say he’d changed his mind. That if she’d been so adamant on paying her own way, she could very well face the consequences of her pride. _Not so high and mighty now, are you Rosie?_

“No problem,” James said. “We can swing by my car after lunch and you can pick it up.”

The knot in her stomach tightened. Was he being intentionally thick? Was he really going to make her say it?”

“I don’t have any money,” she whispered, furious at the tears burning behind her eyes. She blinked hard once, twice, until they went away.

“Well, I would think not,” he said. “Money is usually kept in a wallet, innit?”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll meet you outside.”

Long fingers gripped her bicep gently, keeping her from stepping away. “Not so fast, love. You can’t very well steal that salad and water bottle.”

“I know. Rubbish bin’s over there.”

James’s frown deepened before his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “Rubbish bin…? Rose, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t pay for my food, James,” she snapped. “Stop acting so thick. Is this what you wanted me to say? I don’t have my wallet, so I don’t have any money, so I can’t pay for my bloody lunch. Are you happy now?”

Rose was aware of the heads that had turned their way, and of the glares certain people were directing towards James. If he noticed them, he didn’t pay them any attention. Instead, he faced her head-on and he gripped her shoulders gently, yet firmly enough that she couldn’t easily walk away.

“Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing small circles into her shoulders. “God, I am thick, aren’t I? We’re having a huge misunderstanding. You don’t have to throw your lunch away. I’ll gladly pay for it. Of course I will. When you said you didn’t have your wallet, I thought that was you asking me to pay. Which I’m happy to do. You _know_ that. At least… I thought you knew that. I’m so sorry if I made you think I wouldn’t.”

More tears burned behind her eyes, and she swallowed them down. “But… I shouted at you.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly shout.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “So what if you got a little short with me? You think I’ll hold that grudge and make you starve?”

When he put it like that, she felt foolish. Of course James wouldn’t make her go hungry. Of course he wouldn’t laugh in her face about karma. Of course he wouldn’t be anything other than a bloody _decent human being_.

She couldn’t stop the tears this time. The stress of the morning she’d had crashed over, crumpling her face as she desperately tried to not make a sound.

“C’mere. I’ve got you.”

She was suddenly folded into a familiar, comforting pair of arms. She wished she’d thought to set her food down so she could return his hug. Instead, she stood there like an idiot, blubbering into his sweatshirt.

“What’s wrong, Rose?” he asked.

She couldn’t speak, not as her tears clogged her throat, nearly choking her. She wanted to disappear, to be anywhere else in the world but in the crowded dining hall, having a breakdown in front of so many people.

“Breathe, love. Just breathe. You’re okay. Everything’s okay. C’mon. My food’s ready. Let’s pay for this, then we can go outside. Get some fresh air. And if you feel up to it, you can tell me what’s wrong.” He pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head, then he released her. A moment later, a thick wad of napkins was pushed into her palm. “Here. Wipe your face. Blow your nose. Go to the loo and splash cool water on your face. I’ll meet you by the front doors when you’re ready. Eh?”

Absolutely, completely, irrevocably mortified, Rose tried to school her features as much as possible, but there was no way to make her face less puffy and splotchy. She sniffled hard and ducked her head as she practically ran out of the dining hall. People watched her make her escape, and she nearly said _sod it_ and fled the building to catch a bus to her flat.

She forced her feet to take her to the ladies’ room. It, of course, was full of three chattering girls blocking the way to the sinks. The conversation stopped when she entered.

“‘Scuse me,” Rose muttered, ducking her head to skirt past them to get to a sink.

“Is everything all right?” one of the women asked.

“Havin’ a bad day,” she admitted.

The woman winced in sympathy. “Do you need us to call anyone for you?”

“Need us to beat up an ex-boyfriend?” another offered.

“Or girlfriend,” a third chimed in. “We’ll totally kick anyone’s ass.”

Rose’s tears nearly started up again even as she laughed.

“C’mere,” the first one said. She grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and soaked them under the cold water. “Press this to your face.”

Unable to speak, Rose accepted the paper towels and held them to her swollen, scratchy eyes.

“That accent,” one of the girls said. “You’re from England?”

“London,” Rose answered, blotting her face with the cool towel. “Moved here for school.”

“God, I’ve always wanted to go to the UK. Plane tickets are so expensive though. Plus figuring out hotels and transportation and food. One day I’ll make it over there.”

“You’re so brave, coming to a brand new country for college. I couldn’t even go out of _state_. Though I did go to the other side of the state. I’m from Pittsburgh.”

The girls all chatted mindlessly at Rose as she cleaned then dried her face.

“Thanks,” she croaked. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“No probs. I’m Melanie.”

“Kira.”

“Elsa… I had this name _before_ it became trendy. Fuckin’ _Frozen_.”

Rose cracked a small smile, and the other girls grinned in return.

“We’ll see you around, Rose,” Melanie said. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else we can do for you?”

“I’m fine. Thank you so much. I don’t… Thank you.”

“We’ve all had shit days,” Elsa said. “Don’t worry about it. Take it easy this weekend, if you can. And that offer to kick someone’s ass still stands, by the way. I’m in your composition class, in case you didn't realize. I sit in the front corner. Thank God class is canceled though. Have you thought of a research topic for the persuasion piece? I’m thinking of doing something with how crazy white nationalism is in America. Forcing little kids to recite the Pledge of Allegiance every day from kindergarten until twelfth grade is _nuts_. Like… _scary nuts_.”

“I hadn’t thought of anything yet,” Rose confessed.

“Here…” Elsa took her phone out of her back pocket and extended it to Rose. “Put your number in. We can chat about the paper. And bitch about classes. And you can tell me who’s ass I have to kick. Or you can totally give me a wrong number. No judgement.”

Rose laughed and typed her contact information into Elsa’s phone.

“Awesome. We were about to grab lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“I’m havin’ lunch with my boyfriend.” Upon seeing Elsa’s raised eyebrow, Rose hurriedly assured, “His arse isn’t the one needing kicked, I promise. My… my ex decided to text me.”

How odd, that the words fell off of her tongue so nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t been on the cusp of a panic attack all morning.

“Need me to kick his ass?” Elsa asked, perking up.

“She’s quite violent,” Melanie said in a mock whisper, “for being five feet tall.”

“There are a lot of efficient ways to incapacitate someone,” Elsa said, digging her elbow into Melanie’s side. 

“I appreciate the offer,” Rose said. “But he’s in London.” _I think._

“I’ll add it to my to-do list if I ever make it to England,” Elsa said with a decisive nod.

“Sorry, but I really need to get some food in me before my one o’clock lab,” Kira said apologetically. “Y’all can keep talking, but…”

“No, no,” Rose said, waving them away. “Go have lunch. Besides, I don’t want to keep my boyfriend waiting. It was nice meeting you all.”

The three girls all waved goodbye, then began discussing a party this weekend at a nearby university as they exited the loo. Rose tossed the sodden paper towels into the trash, gave her appearance a once-over—apart from her bloodshot eyes, it wasn’t overly obvious she’d been crying her heart out mere minutes earlier—then walked out of the ladies’ room.

James was sitting on one of the benches in the lobby of the dining hall, a brown paper bag resting on the floor between his feet. He jumped up when he saw her, nearly stepping on their food.

“Rose,” he breathed, opening his arms for her.

She stepped into them and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly. He returned the pressure just as fiercely and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Are you all right?” he murmured.

“I want to go outside.”

He nodded and, with a final squeeze, released her. Tentatively, she brushed her fingers against his and was relieved when he wrapped his hand around hers. With his other, he picked up the bag with their lunches and guided her outside.

It was one of those late-March days that teased at springtime, but reminded you that winter had just ended. In the sunshine, it was warm enough to not be uncomfortable, but in the shade, goosebumps prickled across Rose’s flesh any time the wind kicked up. James led Rose past the dining hall courtyard, where every single table was in use, and he instead led her half way across campus and to a statue of the university’s founder. Around the statue was a decorative wall the perfect height to sit on.

“How’s this?” James asked. “Direct sunlight, so we should be warm enough. Unless those clouds decide to intervene.” He shot a glare to the sky, where there were a handful of wispy clouds that would have no chance of blocking out the strong sunlight from overhead.

They ate their food in silence that was slightly uncomfortable. Rose made it through half of her salad before her stomach decided it didn’t want any more food, so she pushed the lettuce around and around with her plastic fork.

James offered her bites of his burger and chips, but the thought of eating anything greasy made her stomach heave.

“What’s wrong, Rose?” James asked when his burger was finished and he had a handful of chips left.

_I got a text from Jimmy_.

How hard would that be to say? She’d blurted it out to three strangers she’d just met; she should be able to tell her _boyfriend_.

But the words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed and tried again.

_I got a text from Jimmy_.

She could almost predict how James would react. His face would turn steely, but not at her; he would ask if she was all right; he would tell her over and over again that he loved her, that Jimmy was a wanker, that she was lucky to be shot of him. And she craved that reassurance, so why couldn’t she open her mouth and _tell him_? Why couldn’t she spit it out?

Because what if he got upset with her? What if he was upset that she didn’t immediately block the number when she realized it was Jimmy? What if he was upset that, not only did she not block the number, she actually _responded_?

_I got a text from Jimmy_.

James’s face went pale, and for a moment, she thought she’d done it. She thought she’d managed to say the words. But then he asked, “Er… you’re not about to break up with me, are you?”

His tone was nonchalant, but that was genuine fear and heartbreak behind his eyes.

“No!” _Finally_ , that godforsaken lump in her throat dissolved. “God, no!”

His tense shoulders relaxed, but only marginally. “Then what’s bothering you, Rose?”

_I got a text from Jimmy_.

“I… I’m… I got—” _a text from Jimmy_ “—I’m havin’ a bad day,” she said.

His face softened. “Did something trigger it?”

_I got a text from Jimmy_.

“Things feel so… _heavy_ ,” she said instead. It was the truth, after all, if not the full truth. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

James moved the containers from their lunch and set them on the ground. He took their place, scooting close enough that he could wrap her into a hug. She leaned into him, hating herself for not being able to tell him exactly what happened, but appreciating his comfort and support, even if he didn’t know why the support was needed.

“I get it,” he murmured. “Believe me, I get it. I get into these moods too.”

“It sucks.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Yeah. It does. I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this.” He planted a series of small kisses to the side of her head. “I love you so much, Rose. Always remember that. Even when your brain is being mean and nasty, _I love you_.”

_I got a text from Jimmy_. How bloody hard would it be to just _say the goddamned words_? James had confided in her about so much of his own heartbreak when he got into one of his bad moods, why couldn’t she do the same?

“Next time you’re feeling like this,” James whispered, breaking her from her thoughts, “can you tell me upfront? Might spare us a bit of hurt, if we’re both on the same page. As brilliant as I am, I’m not a mind reader, eh?”

He pinched her side playfully, his words and tone light.

_I’m not a mind reader, eh?_

_Tell me upfront._

_I’m not a mind reader._

_Just tell me._

_I’m not a fucking mind reader._

_If you’ve got a problem, tell me._

_What the fuck is your problem? You got somethin’ to say? Well spit it out. I’m not a fucking mind reader, Rosie._

Cold sweat broke out along Rose’s spine, beneath her arms, across her brow. She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick all over James. James, who was still holding her, his arms a cage… a cage around her… holding her in place… not letting her escape… not letting her leave…

_Don’t you fucking walk away from me._

“I want to be alone,” she rasped. Desperately trying to swallow down the flood of saliva in her mouth, Rose jumped down from the wall, away from James. She was _not_ going to vomit, she was _not_ going to vomit, she was _not going to vomit_. “I need to be alone.”

“Hey hey hey.” James pitched his voice low and gentle. His face was pained; he held his hands out towards her, but didn’t approach. “Hey, you’re all right. You’re okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Not you,” she said, shaking her head as though she could physically dislodge the voices in her head. Well. The _voice_ , as it belonged to only one person. “I’m gonna go home. I need to go home. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Let me drive you,” James said, leaping to his feet.

But Rose shook her head. “You have class.”

“Sod my class,” he said. “I need to make sure you get home safely.”

“No, James. I- I’ll be all right. I just need to go home. Sleep. I’ll take a nap.”

“It would make me feel better to drive you,” he said. “I won’t stay, but please… please let me take you home. If we leave right now, I can be there and back in time for my class. Besides, I’ve got your wallet. Gotta return that to you, eh? Can you honestly say that being on a crowded bus sounds like a better option?”

No, she couldn’t. He was right. She knew he was right.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Just… fine.”

“Thank you.” He grabbed the remnants of their lunch and shoved it into a nearby rubbish bin, then led the way to his car.

The ride was uncomfortably silent, but Rose didn’t know how to break it, nor did she have the energy to break it.

James pulled up in front of her building, but didn’t get out of the car. For the first time, it was a relief to be leaving him, and Rose hated herself for it.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” he said with a weary smile. “I get it. Truly. Get some rest. Oh!” He opened up the center console and held out her wallet. “Text me later, if you’d like. Sometimes talking about feelings over a screen is easier than doing it face to face. Let me know if you want me to come by. Or if you want to come to my house. Or if you want to be alone. Whatever you want… whatever you need.”

More tears burned her throat, and she nodded wordlessly.

“I really do love you,” she croaked. “God, I’m a mess today. I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too,” he answered. “It’s okay, Rose. Honestly. Focus on yourself. I’ll see you later.”

He reached across the seat as though to touch her, but he paused, his hand hovering in the seat she’d just vacated. He looked so lost and helpless, and she knew it was all her fault.

She reached out and took his hand, kissing the backs of his knuckles.

“Love you,” she murmured. “Thanks for the ride.”

“I don’t know how to ask…” James licked his lips. “Will you be okay… will you be safe if I leave you alone?”

It took her several seconds to realize what he was saying.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “I promise. Look at me. I _promise_. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He scanned her face, his gaze intense. He must have believed her, because he nodded and brought her hand to his lips for a parting kiss.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, Rose,” he whispered into her skin. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling so low.”

She forced a small smile, then pulled her hand away and shut the car door. She took a few steps back and waved, giving him leave to depart. He did. He pulled away from the curb and took off down the street; Rose watched him until the taillights of his car disappeared around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments from you all make my day. This chapter was incredibly hard to write for a number of different reasons, so if you've read this, I'd really love to hear what you thought 💜


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and James take comfort in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~7600 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit

Rose barely had the strength to walk up the flights of stairs to her flat, but she made it. When the door was locked behind her, she dropped her backpack and keys onto the kitchen table and sank onto her couch, boneless.

 _What a fucking day_.

Rose closed her eyes and rubbed the heels of her hands into them. Her head was throbbing.

Groaning, she grabbed her phone. She hadn’t checked it all day, but she couldn’t exactly go the rest of her life without looking at it. So she unlocked her phone and saw a notification on WhatsApp. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the message, a reply to her demand of how he got her number.

_From a mutual friend. I’m sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you, Rosie. Please, just hear me out._

The message was sent hours ago, directly after her message to him. Rose chewed on her bottom lip until she tasted the metallic tang of blood, mulling over what to say. She could ignore him. She could block his number and force him back into the box in her mind. She could apologize to James and tell him that Jimmy had texted her and it rattled her, but she blocked his number and she would be back to normal in no time.

But what if Jimmy found another way to contact her? He could borrow a friend’s phone to text her. Or change his number. Her stomach rolled with the idea of waking up, unprepared, to another out-of-the-blue message from Jimmy. Maybe she should just get it over with—rip off the plaster.

“What could you possibly have to say to me after all these years? What makes you think I want to hear anything you have to say?”

Rose didn’t think twice, and sent the message. Then she typed, “I didn’t appreciate being blindsided like this. It’s been three years. Don’t expect much of a reply from me.”

Her phone buzzed.

_Please don’t block me. Please. Please hear me out. There’s so much I want to say to you. To apologize for._

Rose snorted. Apologize? It was three years too late for that.

_Please don’t block me._

“Why shouldn’t I?”

_Look, I’m trying to make amends here. Part of that stupid whatever-step drug and alcohol program._

That brought her up short. “You’re sober?” Jimmy hadn’t been a drunk, per se, but he’d definitely enjoyed going out partying, where a number of illicit substances were used and abused. Hell, she’d gone to a lot of those parties too. They’d been fun, at first, but attending almost nightly was rough, especially if she had to be up early the following morning to open the shop. She hadn’t minded that he continued, as long as he was okay with the fact that she only wanted to go out with him on the weekends. But even those stopped being fun after a while, especially when she saw how absolutely wasted Jimmy got, and how he turned into a different person, one who didn’t respect her or her decisions.

_Been sober for six months now. So please. Let me make amends._

Rose nearly snapped back that she didn’t owe him anything, least of all letting him try to atone for all of the hurt he’d caused. Why should he be absolved of that guilt, when she’d been doing her damnedest to forget Jimmy Stone and the life she’d had with him, the good and the bad.

But would this be the final closure she needed? If she let him say his piece and leave, would that also bring healing for her?

In her current state of mind, no, it wouldn’t.

“I need time,” she typed. “I won’t block you if you promise not to message me until I tell you I’m ready. Seeing a message from you after all this time… It messed with my head today. And I need to take time for myself. I’ve worked so hard to forget about you.”

_I know. I’m so sorry, Rose. That’s why I want to apologize._

“Not right now,” she said. “I’ll contact you when I’m ready. If you’re serious about wanting to atone, you’ll give me time and space. Though don’t hold your breath.”

 _Fair enough_.

Rose waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. Was he actually going to abide by her wishes and leave her alone until she was ready to talk? Was she _ever_ going to be ready to talk? Why should she?

But he was putting in the effort to make amends, to get better. He’d reached out for help. That was more than she could say; in the three years that had passed, she’d barely spoken a word of how bad their relationship had gotten. She hadn’t gone into details with her mum, and she’d shared a bit of it with James, enough that he knew the gist of it all, but not everything. Nor had she reached out to a professional, yet Jimmy _fucking_ Stone had?

Rose dropped her phone to the floor and fell back onto her couch, sprawling out across the length of it. She was so _tired_ , but her brain wouldn’t switch off. She tossed and turned on the sofa for the next hour before she picked up her exhausted body and ran herself a bath. With the water as hot as she could stand it, she slipped beneath the bubbles, groaning when the hot water soothed her tense muscles. She didn’t necessarily fall asleep in the tub, but she drifted away from consciousness for a while, her mind blissfully quiet for the first time that day.

She stayed in the bath until the water was cool and her skin pruny. At least her head was a little clearer, and she wasn’t on the verge of crying or vomiting anymore. That was a win in her book.

Getting dressed in more of James’s clothes, she went back to her living room for her phone. There were no new messages from Jimmy, but there was one from James.

 _Thinking of you and loving you xoxo_.

Her heart squeezed. How lucky was she to have such an amazing man for her boyfriend? All of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than to see him.

“Will you come ‘round?” she texted. “I’m not gonna be good company. But sitting in silence with you sounds better than sitting in silence by myself. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay. I was really rude to you. I’m so sorry.”

James replied almost immediately. _You have nothing to apologize for. However, if it makes you feel better, apology accepted. 100% accepted._

_Would you like me to bring anything? You didn’t eat much. I can bring some ingredients to cook for you. Or I can pick up a pizza or something. Whatever you want, love._

“Pizza sounds good.” It didn’t, really, but no food sounded good.

_I’ll come by ‘round six? Is that all right?_

Rose glanced at her clock. Another two hours until she could see him. She wished he could come by sooner, but she couldn’t ask any more of him today. 

“Yep! See you then xoxo.”

While she waited, Rose caught up on some cleaning she’d neglected, then she sat down to research a few topics for her composition essay. She hopped from one task to another to distract herself from her scattered thoughts. Her past and her present were colliding in ways she never expected. Jimmy was supposed to stay locked away in the box inside her mind until _she_ decided to let him out. He wasn’t supposed to break free and take over without warning.

And James. James was her happy place. Her _home_. He was everything she wanted in a partner, and was everything she never expected to find. He was gentle, soft, and tender, the exact opposite of what Jimmy had been.

Her relationship with Jimmy had been a wildfire—hot and heavy, thrilling, raging, all-consuming, out of control. He’d been her first love, her first _everything_. With Jimmy, she’d grown from a girl into a woman. Not just because she’d started having sex, but because she experienced love and longing and responsibility. She’d moved away from home and got a job to pay her own way in the world. She’d gained the independence that all teenagers had to find eventually, and she did it with a man she adored, and a man that adored her. And when things went bad, they’d gotten bad so slowly that it was like being submerged in water that was gradually getting hotter; she didn't realize she was being boiled until the damage had been done.

But James… James was a log fire in a hearth. He was bright and warm, cozy and familiar, sensual and eternal, a source of comfort she didn’t know she wanted. He was her home in every sense of the word. He was the place she always wanted to go to at the end of every day. There was no uncertainty with him; she never had to wonder or worry about what mood he would be in. She never had to pretend with him.

How could she ever have thought what she’d had with Jimmy was true love? The love she’d had for Jimmy was a floating ember to James’s inferno.

She was suddenly impatient to see her boyfriend; it took every ounce of restraint to not text him and ask him to come by sooner. She knew he was done with classes, but she also knew he liked to take Friday evenings to get most of his homework done so he could spend his weekends with her.

Finally, at exactly 5:59, there was a knock on the door. She flung it open. James stood in the corridor, his hair slightly disheveled; he smiled when he saw her, but the expression didn’t meet his eyes.

“I bring offerings of cheesy, greasy goodness,” he said, holding up a pizza box.

She snorted and stepped back to let him in. The pizza smelled delicious, and her stomach, which had had nothing all day apart from half of a small salad, gave a painful gurgle.

“You’re a keeper,” she said, trying to keep her voice purposefully light, as though she hadn’t been in a bad mood all day.

“I do my best.” He set the pizza box on the counter, then moved to her cabinets for plates. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she admitted. “Not great, but better.”

“Better is good,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Will you be offended if I say no?”

James frowned at her. “Of course not. I know how annoying it is when people want to force you to talk. I won’t press for anything you don’t want to willingly share with me.”

Her heart sank. He thought she didn’t trust him to share things with him? Well, clearly he was right.

“Maybe later,” she said. “I feel fragile. I’d rather not talk about anything right now.”

James nodded and he took two slices of pizza, then dropped onto her couch. Rose also took two pieces and sat beside him.

In silence, they ate their food. Carefully, cautiously, Rose scooted closer to him until her hip was flush with his. He hummed and wrapped an arm around her waist, eating one-handed. Relieved by the invitation, Rose rested her head in the crook of his shoulder as she ate her own pizza.

Neither of them spoke, but at least it wasn’t awkward. Rather, it felt like a normal date night, albeit without their usual banter. James’s fingers absently walked up and down her side, then followed the strip of bare skin where her hoodie had ridden up her stomach. He circled that path of skin repeatedly, flexing his wrist and fingers to stroke from her belly, along her waist, then creeping towards her back. She shivered as, again and again, he brushed her hip, dipping his fingers just beneath her tracksuit bottoms to run his fingertips across her waistline.

 _Fuck_.

Heat raged through her veins, an aching, desperate fire that consumed her and pushed away any lingering sadness and anxiety. All she wanted, in this moment, was to forget about everything apart from James and the love that they shared. She wanted to show James how much she cared for him, and how appreciative she was that he was in her life. And she wanted to be shown how much she was cared for in return.

Setting her empty plate atop his, she moved them to the floor then settled herself in his lap, her knees straddling his thighs. His hands went to her bum, resting there but not moving. He smiled up at her, and she couldn’t help but lean in for a hug.

With how she towered above him, his face was level with her breasts; he nuzzled into them. She rested her cheek in his hair, then kissed the top of his head.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he replied, squeezing her waist. “Very much.”

Rose pulled back a fraction, far enough to cup his cheeks and tilt his face up for a kiss. She could taste the remnants of their dinner on his lips. James’s mouth parted slightly for her, his jaw flexing in her palms as he chased her lips.

Their rhythm was slow and steady, a lazy back-and-forth, catch-and-release cycle they preferred. She took his bottom lip between hers, then he reciprocated. Whenever her tongue teased at the seam of his lips, he would return the gesture.

She hadn’t realized how tense his body was until he lost himself in her, melting into the couch and cradling her further into his lap. She knew it was her fault. He had every right to be on edge after she’d gone and _freaked out_ on him without explaining what was wrong. And she hated it. She hated herself for her bad mood affecting him.

“I love you,” she said again, desperate for him to know, deep in his very soul, how much she cherished him. She couldn’t begin to imagine how much worse today would have been if not for his solid, comforting presence in the maelstrom of anxiety.

Before he could respond, she caught his lips in another kiss, this one more frenzied than the ones they’d been sharing. She sucked on his bottom lip, scraping her teeth across it until he gasped and clenched his fingers hard into her bum. 

She felt the way his entire body shuddered beneath her, especially when she threaded her fingers through his hair and _tugged_. The whining moan he let out made her core clench, stoking the fire blazing in her belly. Curiously, Rose rocked her hips forward into his. There was a definitive bulge between his legs—not fully hard, but well on his way. 

“I’m sorry about today,” she said between heated kisses. _God,_ he felt good. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

But she did. She’d been an emotional wreck, and she couldn’t even give him the courtesy of explaining. The least she could do was apologize, both with her words and her body. Rose pressed herself his burgeoning erection, slowly rubbing against it and loving that she could _feel_ him getting hard beneath her, because of her.

He hissed. His hands grabbed at her waist, but rather than guide her into a slow grind, he held her still.

“Rose, wait. Stop. What are you doing?”

“Tryna kiss you. And other things. If that’s okay.”

Oh, God, what if he wasn’t in the mood to make love? What right did she have to want to seek comfort in his body, in their love, after how poorly she’d treated him today? Why would he even want her in this way?

“Sorry,” she mumbled, shifting her weight away from the front of his trousers. “I’m sorry.”

“Slow down,” he said gently, bracing his hands on her hips to keep her in his lap. “I need a quick check-in, though. You’re obviously having a really bad day. And I need to make sure… You don’t need to make it up to me, or anything. I hope you know that. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not angry or upset with you. I’m worried about you. So please don’t feel like you need to have sex with me or something to… well, for whatever reason. Having sex… making love… it’s an activity we do together because we’re in love with each other and want to express it physically. Yeah? It’s not something to be used or bargained with.”

James brushed her hair from where it had fallen into her face, tucking the strands behind her ears. She leaned into his touch, then turned her head to the side to kiss the inside of his wrist. He was right. He was absolutely right. But at the same time, he had it wrong. While she was guilty for the way she’d acted today, she didn’t feel like she _owed_ him sex. Not the way he seemed to be interpreting her actions.

“I’m not trying to use it like that,” she said, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. “I’m not… I don’t know how to explain it. I want you, James. I _need_ you. I need to feel you, to touch you, to love you. I need…” _I need you to love me. I need to feel loved. To feel safe. To feel cherished_. “I want to be with you in this way that’s only ours. And I do feel bad for how I’ve acted today, but that’s not why I’m doing this.” _Not entirely, at least_.

James’s eyes scanned hers for long enough that she was sure he was going to push her off his lap. But he didn’t. He took her face in his hands and pulled her down for another kiss, this one the gentlest of the night.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, love.” He planted butterfly kisses all across her cheeks, her chin, the bridge of her nose. “Let me love you. Let me kiss your body and let me share mine with you.”

Rose would have been content to let him have his filthy way with her on the sofa, but when he said it so romantically, she couldn’t deny him the luxury of a bed.

Leaving their dirty dishes on the floor, Rose guided James down the short hall to her bedroom. Wasting no time, they stripped out of their clothes and fell onto the bed together in a tangle of limbs. James’s lips and fingertips touched every part of her, worshipping her and loving her. He whispered words of devotion and comfort into her skin until Rose was on the cusp of crying. How could such a beautiful person love someone like her? Didn’t he deserve so much better than someone who couldn’t even tell him why she’d been so upset?

“Stay with me,” he murmured into her collarbone as his fingers painted a roadmap of desire up and down her thigh. “Stay with me, Rose. Stay out of your head and be with me here. I love you.”

His touch awakened her body until it was singing with heat and pleasure and a raw, all-consuming _need_. His fingers between her legs teased and stroked her, readying her. Not that she’d needed much coaxing; the sheer closeness of his body, the slide of his skin against hers, was more than enough to spark that wet, throbbing, delicious heat between her thighs.

They remained on their sides when they finally joined together, their fronts flush against each other. Rose wrapped her thigh around his hip, curling her leg around the back of his to anchor their lower bodies. One of her arms was beneath his neck, and she fisted that hand through his hair; her other hand leisurely explored his back, holding his upper body to her.

She buried her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him as they began to move. He smelled so good, and felt even better. With every thrust of his body, every caress of his hands, Rose could _almost_ forget her foul mood.

“Oh, Rose,” he gasped when he moved a certain way that was particularly pleasurable for him. “Oh, love. My love.”

She whimpered, tears burning behind her eyes for seemingly the dozenth time that day even as the coil in her stomach tightened. _Shit_ , this wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I- I love you,” she managed to say before her tears spilled over. She squeezed her eyes shut to try to keep them back, not wanting to alarm James or to pull him out of the moment. He was getting close too, she knew, from the slightly frenetic pace he’d set and the low, guttural grunts on every inward thrust.

His hand moved between them to the place where they were joined. He rubbed her in time with his movements, and she was lost. Her nails bit into the soft skin of his back as she clung to him, crying out her release in a choked sob. Her body thrummed and pulsed with ecstasy and heartbreak, joy and misery, pain and pleasure. James was all around her, holding her as tightly as she held him, and her heart _ached_ with how much she loved him.

James was still moving, thrusting hard and fast into her, chasing his own pleasure now. Trying to help him over the cusp he was dangling on, Rose tightened her inner muscles around him. She scraped her nails down his back then grabbed his bum, squeezing, letting her nails dig in ever so slightly in the way she learned he loved. She could feel the tension, the strain, the flex and relaxation as he thrust and thrust and thrust… 

“Ohhh, _God_ ,” he rasped, his breath coming in choppy pants.

His hips stuttered then arched deeply into hers as he released inside her with a string of groaned curses. Moaning, he held her impossibly closer, her name a prayer on his lips. He trembled and convulsed in her arms, even when the sensation of him throbbing within her subsided.

She removed her hand from his arse and instead placed it on the small of his back, pressing her palm to his skin. Rose kept her face tucked into his chest for a long time after, not wanting to move from the cocoon of his arms. Her body was flushed with endorphins and lingering pleasure; she never wanted to lose this feeling. She didn’t want to go back into her own mind.

“I love you.” He nuzzled his cheek into the top of her head, not in any sort of rush to move either. “I’m so sorry you’re out of sorts today.”

“I love you, too,” she answered, kissing his collarbone. He shivered in her arms, so she did it again. “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Anytime. I want to share everything with you, Rose. The good and the bad. Even if you don’t want to talk about it, I want to be here with you. Like you are for me. And maybe there’s nothing wrong. Maybe you’re just having a bad day. I still want to be here with you, to make you feel a little less alone.”

And there it was. He’d given her an out, if she wanted to take it. She wouldn’t have to explain Jimmy to him, if she didn’t want to.

But she _did_ want to. Or, at least, she thought she did.

Between the exhaustion of the day and that marvelously overwhelming round of sex, however, her mind was fried. All she wanted to do was hold and be held by James, and not say anything that wasn’t a profession of her love for him.

Hopefully soon she would be able to have the mental energy and strength to tell him about Jimmy. She wanted to tell him everything. _Everything_. She wanted to tell him how wonderful Jimmy had been when they’d first met, because he _had_ been wonderful. She wanted James to know the person she’d fallen in love with. She wanted to tell him in excruciating, painful detail how it all fell apart. And she wanted to tell him that she was slowly realizing she never dealt with the aftermath of the breakup. Most of all, she wanted to heal and get better, and for James to be right beside her as she did so.

Just… not tonight.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rose said, squeezing him tightly, near tears again with how very much she loved him.

“Anytime,” he repeated. “Would you like me to stay the night, or would you prefer to be alone?”

“Please don’t go,” she said, even as she hated herself for how selfish she was being. 

“Good, because I’m rather comfy here,” he said, sighing deeply.

“Oh, wait. The cats. You can’t stay.”

“They’re fine. I… er… When you asked me to come over… Well, I didn’t want to presume, but I’d hoped… I stopped by my house to feed the boys before coming over here. Just in case.”

Rose’s heart swelled in her chest; even though she’d been an awful girlfriend today, he had taken precautions to ensure he could spend the night with her, to spend more time with her.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, untucking her face from his chest to look up at him.

His cheeks were still a bit flushed and he had that post orgasm glaze to his eyes. She brushed his hair off of his forehead, then wriggled up a few inches so her face was level with his. He automatically shifted his head back, giving her more room on the pillow.

Nose to nose, Rose scanned his features, tracing the dusting of freckles along his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His day-old stubble darkened his otherwise pale cheeks, and she lifted her fingers to caress it, enjoying the scrape.

He hummed, his eyes fluttering shut. Rose walked her fingers across the planes of his face, tracing the shell of his ear then ghosting down the curve of his jaw to his neck. She could just barely feel the steady beat of his pulse at his neck.

She caressed his cheeks again then brushed the arch of his eyebrow, continuing higher to run her fingers through his hair. It was beautiful, so soft and strong; she could play with it for hours. If they ever did have children one day, she hoped they inherited his hair.

“That feels nice,” he murmured, the words rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest, reminiscent of a cat’s purr.

“For me too,” she replied, continuing her ministrations.

Rose leaned down and caught his lips in a soft kiss. He clumsily returned the pressure of the kiss, but was interrupted with a seemingly involuntary sigh whenever she lightly scratched at his scalp.

“ _God_ , that feels good,” he repeated as she moved her kisses to his neck.

She laved her tongue and teeth across his skin, shivering as his stubble tickled her lips. The quiet moans he let out every few minutes began to send heat between her thighs, despite the fact that she’d been thoroughly satiated barely ten minutes ago. A quick glance down told her James was rather enjoying her touches.

“Sorry,” he muttered, having realized what she’d noticed. “Bloody thing always pops up around you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she teased, flashing him a genuine grin. There was something intoxicating about being able to arouse him with simple touches.

“It’ll go down on its own,” he promised.

Rose hummed noncommittally, unsure whether she wanted to do something with James’s renewed arousal, or whether she was content to continue as she’d been. The heat between her thighs was a dull ache, one that could either burn itself out or one that could be fanned to life. She didn’t know which she would prefer—or what he would prefer—so she continued caressing James’s hair and kissing him.

She should have known that they wouldn’t be able to stop. With every passing minute, James grew harder until he was twitching lightly against his belly. Seeing how worked up he was getting only served to heighten her own arousal until it was an insistent throb between her legs.

“Again?” she asked from where she was making a pink mark that would fade by morning at the side of his neck.

He arched his head back, giving her more room. “If you want to.”

Rose frowned. He’d been quite passive for most of the evening. Was he actually a willing participant, or was he going along with it for her sake? Was she _using_ him?

“Do _you_ want to?” she pressed.

“I always enjoy making love with you.”

Not exactly an answer, but he rolled onto his back and urged her astride him, where she rocked and moved above him, against him, as they made slow and lazy love for the second time that night.

oOoOo

James didn’t get much sleep, and any sleep he did manage to get wasn’t restful. His mind refused to shut off—despite the haze of post-orgasmic endorphins—worried as he was for Rose. Her behavior today had been… heartbreaking. He was no stranger to mood swings, but he had never seen Rose in such a state. He had seen her upset, crying, angry, and everything in between, but never _afraid_. And she clearly was afraid of something. Or at least extremely stressed.

It had gutted him when she’d broken down in the food court. He’d been offended, at first, by her assumption that he wouldn’t pay for her food, upset that she thought so little of him. Beneath that was fury at Jimmy Stone; from the glimpses of her ex that Rose had shared with him, Jimmy had done quite a bit of damage before Rose managed to get free of him. And James knew, without a doubt, without Rose needing to tell him, that Jimmy had probably held a grudge once—more than once—and had refused to pay for something for Rose after they’d had an argument.

He hated Jimmy for that, and he suspected he would always hate him for that. But James wished he knew how he could work Rose through her lingering trauma and insecurities. It killed him to not know what to do. He _ached_ for her. There was a genuine, physical pain in his chest, made worse because he didn’t know how to help her. Would it be better to leave her alone to sift through her thoughts, or to ask her about it, and press her to talk? But he knew sometimes that talking was the farthest thing from helpful. How many times had his mood been made worse when his aunt or teachers or therapists tried to force him to open up? How many times had he exploded in anger, telling them all to _fuck the hell off_ and leave him alone? How many times had he screamed or cried into a pillow in an attempt to release the boiling rage and helplessness that had threatened to eat him alive?

And how many times had his mood been calmed by a friend willing to just sit quietly with him? The night Rose had come to his house with soup and a willingness to sit with him watching lighthearted movies had done more for him than an entire day of lonely brooding. She hadn’t pressed him to talk, but she made it clear that she would listen to him if he wanted or needed to. He was fairly certain he was in love with her by that point, but that night was when he knew, without a doubt, that he loved her as more than a friend.

He wished Rose would feel as comfortable confiding in him.

Wait, no. That wasn’t fair. He knew Rose was comfortable with him. He knew she trusted him.

And yet… and yet there was that small part of him that was upset that he had spilled his guts to her about his parents, but she wasn’t doing the same for him.

He knew it wasn’t fair, though, so he desperately tried to quash that little voice in the back of his mind that told him that she wasn’t being as open with him as he was with her.

Instead, James held her closer. Not that they could get much closer. He loved spending nights with Rose, but he had to admit, trying to fall asleep with her on her full-size bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable as them sharing his queen-size. On one hand, he loved being able to hold her so intimately, but on the other, it would’ve been nice to be able to sprawl out a bit more without worrying about falling off the edge of the mattress. Or accidentally smacking her.

Rose, at least, seemed to be sleeping well. She’d barely stirred in his arms and her chest was rising and falling steadily with her deep, even breaths.

As he watched her, his throat swelled shut. He loved her. God, he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. More than he knew he could love someone.

Suddenly he didn’t care that she hadn’t told him what had upset her today. He didn’t care if she never told him. He just wanted her to feel better. He wanted her to wake up with a smile and to know how loved and cherished she was. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, and would _always_ be there for her.

He nuzzled his nose deeper into her hair, breathing her in. The scent of her soothed him, and managed to quiet his thoughts enough to let him drift out of consciousness.

It wasn’t a deep sleep, and he awoke far earlier than he wanted to. A glance at the window, where pearly gray light was seeping through the blinds, told him it was before sunrise. His full, cramping bladder forced him out of bed, though, and rather than go back to bed with Rose, he quietly tiptoed to her kitchen to make breakfast. 

Her cupboards were getting pretty bare, and he frowned. She could afford groceries, couldn’t she? He knew her hours at work were drastically reduced, thanks to classes, and he knew she tried to make time for him too; he would have to make sure she knew she could work more hours if she needed the extra money. While he wished he could spend every waking and sleeping hour with her, he knew that wasn’t feasible. Or healthy.

He managed to scrounge up enough ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

When he flipped the last pancake, he heard the toilet flush. He peeked down the hall and saw Rose step, bleary-eyed, out of the loo. Like him, she hadn’t bothered to get dressed and paraded naked down the hall towards him.

“Morning,” he said, letting his gaze wander up and down her body.

“Mmm, mornin’,” she replied through a yawn. “Smells good.”

“I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast,” he said. “Wanna have breakfast in bed?”

“To eat food, or something else?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

His knees wobbled. If she was teasing him, _flirting_ with him, she must be feeling a bit better. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d been in the same despondent mood as yesterday.

“Food first,” he said, “then we can see about the something else.”

Despite the fact that he’d found his pleasure twice the night before, his body began responding to the prospect of a repeat performance. His skin turned warm and his groin went tight. Rose smirked and glanced down; he knew she could see him beginning to stir.

“Delicious,” she purred.

“Stop that,” he whined. “I really do want to eat first. I’m starved.”

Rose winked at him, but dutifully turned her attention to the food.

James cracked a few eggs into the pan while Rose went to her fridge for orange juice, splitting what was left in the carton between two cups.

“You need to get some groceries,” he said lightly. “Are you all right with cash?”

“Yep. Just been putting it off. I was planning to get some after work tonight.”

“Oh, bugger, I forgot you work today. What time? Noon to seven?”

Rose nodded.

“I can drive you there, and pick you up tonight so you don’t have to take the bus with bags full of groceries. If you want.”

“That sounds nice,” she said with a small smile. The expression slipped when she said, “I… I’m sorry about yesterday.”

James stayed quiet, hoping it would encourage her to keep speaking. He focused intently on the eggs, though, knowing it was often easier to talk when you weren’t being watched.

“Thank you for spending the night with me,” she said, and his heart fell. “It was nice to have you here. I’m sorry I wasn’t good company.”

“You’ve done the same for me,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I know life isn’t sunshine and rainbows. The plan is to spend forever with you, so I know there will be times when you or I—or both of us—will be in shit moods. I’ll never abandon you during a shit mood, unless you tell me you’d like to be alone.”

Rose let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. James, meanwhile, ground his teeth together. Why didn’t she want to talk to him? 

“Thank you,” she repeated.

He nearly jolted when Rose came up behind him and wrapped him in a hug. His skin sparked beneath hers, at the sensation of the front of her body pressing into his back and bum. She locked her arms around his hips and squeezed.

“I love you so much, James,” she murmured, kissing the center of his back between his shoulder blades. “More than I can tell you. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.” She kissed him again. “Thank you for understanding. It’s nice to know that someone else gets it. That you know what it’s like to have your thoughts all twisted up in your head. They barely make sense to me, so trying to tell someone else… Thank you.”

James’s irritation left him in a great gust of shame. He relaxed his jaw and reached down to give Rose’s hands a soft squeeze. Of course she wasn’t purposely not sharing her feelings. _Of course_ she wasn’t.

“When your thoughts untangle themselves,” he said, caressing her wrist bone with his thumb, “I’ll be here to listen.”

He felt more than heard Rose’s heavy exhale. She continued peppering kisses from shoulder blade to shoulder blade as she whispered, “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he answered. “Food’s ready.”

With a parting kiss, she stepped away from him. He plated their meal and gestured for her go back to the bedroom. She bit her lip and winked at him, then picked up their glasses of orange juice and led the way down the hall. His eyes zeroed in on her naked body, from her shoulders to the planes of her back to the valley of her spine and the subtle dimples above her bum. It all looked so inviting, so smooth and so soft. His hands began to tremble as he felt himself getting hard. He wanted to touch her, to hold her.

“Like what you see?” she asked innocently when they’d made it into the bedroom.

There was no hiding his reaction. “You’re beautiful. I love looking at you.”

She beamed, her whole face lighting up. “Food first. Then more looking.”

“Just looking?” he asked, making a show of checking her out from head to toe.

“Well,” she drawled, “I guess there can be some touching, too.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, then joined her on the bed. She had kicked the blankets to the floor and propped the pillows along the wall at the head of the bed, giving them something to lean against.

They were pressed hip to hip, thigh to thigh as they ate. The sensation of so much of her skin brushing across his did nothing to calm the erection that grew more insistent as they ate. Rose noticed too, and as a result, she leaned against him and rested her cheek on his shoulder, letting her breath puff at his ear whenever she wasn’t busy shoveling more food into her mouth.

She finished eating first, mostly because he kept forgetting about the food on his plate whenever the sensation of her breath on his neck and ear shot delicious shivers down his spine.

Rose set her plate on the nightstand beside the bed, then she lay down beside him, her head at his hip. She propped her head into one of her hands while her other hand began tracing shapes onto his thigh.

Her fingertips wandered tantalizingly close to where he was aching with desire, but she never touched him. She continued the teasing torture while he finished eating. There were a few bites left on his plate when he could no longer focus on the food.

“Please,” he whispered, clumsily setting his plate atop hers on the nightstand. “Touch me.”

Rose looked up at him, her eyes burning with her own arousal. But rather than sit up and crawl into his lap, as he was expecting, she shifted down a few more inches, then leaned over his lap. He squeaked when she slotted her mouth over him. She hummed around his length, making his body convulse as a sharp, intense bolt of pleasure tightened his gut. _God_ , it felt amazing. While her tongue and lips teased the tip of him, her hand leisurely pumped the rest of him; the dual sensation was enough to white out his vision and make his ears ring.

His heart hammered in his chest, frantically pumping blood and endorphins through his body as his pleasure mounted.

“Rose, _shit_ , I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last if you keep this up,” he warned, the telltale tingle already growing at the base of his spine.

She hummed around him again and he groaned, clenching his fingers and toes to try to stave off his release.

“Please,” he croaked.

She pulled off of him, and he didn’t know whether to whine in relief or disappointment.

“S’okay,” she said, then she absently swirled her tongue over the tip of him. “You can come.”

“You don’t want me…?” He gestured vaguely towards her lap, ears burning when she giggled.

“You can reciprocate,” she promised, winking. “Sit back and enjoy. Unless… you don’t want to come like this?”

“God, yes. Please.” He loved being inside Rose, but there was something addictive about the sensations of her mouth and hand on him at the same time.

She grinned and slotted her mouth over him once more. James struggled to keep his eyes open to watch her pleasure him. His body was shaking apart, the tightness behind his navel almost unbearable.

He lost the battle with his eyes when she drummed her tongue across the sensitive underside of his erection. His head thunked against the wall and fisted his hands in the sheets.

“Feels so good,” he hissed, his hips straining with the effort of remaining still.

She hummed around him in answer and he whimpered, the pressure in his belly flaring.

“I’m gonna come,” he managed to grit out.

Just in time, too. The heat burned through his lower body, expanding outwards. Rose bore down on him, stroking him firmly as she hollowed out her cheeks.

A rush of pleasure thrummed through his veins as he squirmed on the bed, releasing helplessly into her mouth with a grunt of relief and satisfaction. His heart raced in time with the tingling throbs of pleasure as Rose worked him through it.

“God,” he rasped, his vision swimming.

Rose had let go of him by now and was smiling up at him from the pillows.

“I love doing that,” she admitted.

“Why?” he asked, dazed.

He slid down the bed until his face was level with hers and caught her lips in a gentle kiss of thanks.

“Why do you like going down on me?” she asked with a shrug. “Probably the same reason I like going down on you.”

Oh. He’d never thought of that before. He loved going down on her because he loved giving her pleasure and making her feel good; it never dawned on him that Rose might enjoy giving oral for the exact same reason.

“Well, thank you,” he said with another kiss.

“You are very welcome. And thanks again, for bein’ here with me. I know you said I don’t owe you anything, but still. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” he said. He leaned over for another kiss, and he used his upper body to push Rose down into the mattress. He trailed his lips down her neck to the hollow of her throat. “You don’t have to be at work for another couple of hours.” He scraped his teeth across the angles of her collarbone. “How should we pass the time?”

“You’re off to a pretty good start,” she said, her voice breathy. She threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp while he trailed kisses all along her chest. “Wouldn’t mind if you did this forever.”

“That can certainly be arranged,” he murmured into her skin. Then he settled himself between her thighs where he spent the next half hour teasing her with kisses and caresses before finally letting her fall over the edge and into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, I'd love to hear from you 💜 Comments from you all make my day.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose tries to sort out the messy emotions tangling her brain, and she and James have a date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~6600 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit
> 
> Apologies for the delay in this chapter. I've been having a sort of existential crisis these past few weeks about what I want to do with my life, re: a career trajectory. Plus my mental health has been rather shaky, which makes it hard to focus on writing. And I've also being writing a brand new AU, which has sapped any writing energy I have happened to have. Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoy this update... the calm before the storm.

When Rose stepped into her composition class on Monday afternoon, Elsa was the first person she saw. The petite girl was scrolling through Facebook on her open laptop and didn’t seem to care that everybody could see that she was looking at memes.

“Er, hi,” Rose said, wringing her hands in front of herself, suddenly terrified Elsa wouldn’t remember her.

Elsa glanced up, her face brightening in a grin. “Rose! Hiya! I worried I’d scared you off last week. Wanna sit?”

She pointed to the open desk beside her. For a moment, Rose was taken back to when she’d first met James. He’d decided right off the bat that they were going to be friends and started talking her ear off, only to worry he’d come across too strongly.

“You remind me of my boyfriend,” Rose said, sinking down onto the chair.

“A compliment, I hope?”

“The best compliment,” she assured. “My boyfriend’s wonderful.”

“Good. Especially after how upset you were after hearing from your ex. Did you manage to relax this weekend?”

They chatted for a few minutes until the professor arrived and told them it was a free work period; if they wanted to leave, they were allowed to, but if they stayed, they had to be silent.

Knowing she wouldn’t have the motivation to work on her essay if she left, Rose grabbed her laptop from her bag and opened up the list of topics she’d managed to brainstorm. The essay was due in just over two weeks; she really needed to settle on a topic and start writing.

Her inbox pinged with a new email from Elsa Robles.

_Psst… share your Google Doc with me. I can help you decide on a topic and we can chat through the IM feature :*_

Rose glanced at Elsa out of the corner of her eye; the girl was focused on her computer. Shrugging, Rose shared her document with Elsa and waited. It took half a minute for her to open the document and start a new messaging thread.

_Ooh, I like the topic of wealth inequality. Or the way that poverty is actually really expensive. You could also talk about your experience with living in London/how access to affordable healthcare (unlike here in ‘Murica) makes a difference when you’re struggling to make ends meet. You could probably actually tie all of these topics together into one Giant Mega Awesome Essay._

Rose had to bite her lip to keep from laughing and typed, “Okay, you definitely remind me of my boyfriend.”

_If things don’t work out with him, hit me up :*_

“Haha! Will do!”

_So what’s the story with douche canoe ex? If you want to talk about it. It’s easier through a computer screen sometimes rather than looking someone in the face and trying to speak actual words._

“It’s a long story.”

_I get it. My last girlfriend was a piece of work. We were together for a year before she decided dating a woman wasn’t worth the dirty looks from homophobic assholes, or the grief from her parents. She never actually told her parents about me. Didn’t stop her from sleeping with me for eleven months though._

Rose winced. “That’s tough. I was with my ex-boyfriend for two and a half years.”

_Oof, that’s quite the commitment. How recently did it end?_

“Three and a half years ago,” Rose answered. “I probably shouldn’t be upset about it anymore, but it was rough. He basically stopped coming home and told me through text he wasn’t coming back because he’d fallen in love with another girl.”

_Damn. Okay, when I eventually make it to England, I’m looking him up and giving him a hard kick in the balls. You’re better off without him. Asshole._

“Oh, I know. But still… I did love him. I thought we’d get married one day. And there was… other stuff, too. He wasn’t the nicest of blokes by the end of it.”

_I feel ya. My girlfriend actually had the nerve to call me a “dirty dyke” before we split._

Rose’s blood ran hot. “Okay, if I ever run into your girlfriend, I’ll give her a hard kick up the arse too.”

_Haha! Thanks, babe :*_

_And, uh, I know I sound really chill about it all. But it was hard, y’know. It’s been a year since Girlfriend From Hell, and sometimes it still hurts. So I get it, when you say it’s still painful._

“I feel like I should be over it,” Rose admitted. “How long will I let Jimmy (douche canoe ex, as you called him) hang over my life and make me upset?”

_At least you’re recognizing you don’t want to be haunted by him forever. That’s a great place to start._

_Also, not to be too forward or anything, but have you considered talking to someone at the counseling center? Therapy gets a bad rap, but it’s actually kinda nice. It’s a safe place to talk through some wacky emotions with an expert that’s trained to listen to people talk about wacky emotions. Venting to friends is nice, but sometimes a professional ear is more helpful._

“I never considered it. Maybe I’ll look into it.”

_I highly recommend it. I go on a semi-regular basis to unload the shit that ties up my brain every now and then. It’s really easy to schedule an appointment… no phone call necessary. And it’s completely free to students. Lemme get you the link._

_Again, sorry if I’m being too forward._

“You’re not,” Rose promised. “It’s kind of refreshing to sort of skip the awkward “becoming friends” stage and go right to “talk about anything” stage.”

_My thoughts exactly. Life’s too short to waste time. Either people will like me as I am and will like talking with me, or they won’t, and they’ll ignore me. I’m slowly getting more comfy about being myself._

“You’re a rare gem, Elsa. I’m really glad I met you.”

_Dawww, you’re gonna make me blush :*_

oOoOo

Rose went back and forth on whether or not to make an appointment with the counseling center. There was something deeply intimidating about the idea of opening up to a complete stranger about her emotional duress, even though she logically knew that was the entire purpose of a counselor. 

In the end, Rose decided the worst thing that could happen was that the session wouldn’t be helpful, and she would still be in the same emotional state by the end of it. Whereas the best thing that could happen would be that she learned coping skills and would be able to work through her grief and trauma of the fallout of her relationship with Jimmy. Plus, perhaps she could use this as a practice round of how she would explain her relationship with Jimmy to James. Because she had tried to forget about Jimmy, she was sure her story would be incomplete when she eventually told it, thanks to long-repressed memories.

As Elsa had said, it was easy to schedule an appointment: the university’s counseling services had a webpage portal to request an appointment. All Rose had to provide was a little information about why she was requesting the appointment, and times she would be available to meet with a counselor. She heard back the following day, with her first appointment scheduled for that Friday afternoon once her classes had finished.

She nearly backed out at the last minute. When she told Elsa she was getting cold feet, her friend threaded their fingers together and walked with Rose to the counseling center.

“I’ll wait for you out here,” Elsa promised. “When you’re done, we can go get a giant milkshake.”

“You don’t have to wait here,” Rose protested.

But Elsa flapped her hands. “I’ve got my laptop. I’ll work on our comp paper. Besides, I want a damn milkshake. I’d wait hours for a milkshake.”

Rose laughed, then squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Thank you.”

With a deep breath, Rose entered the office. A receptionist gave her an iPad on which she filled out the required paperwork. After that was finished, she only had to wait five minutes before she was called back by a dark-haired woman not much older than she was.

“Hi Rose,” she said with a gentle smile. “My name is Lindsay. Follow me back to my office.”

Her stomach rolled with nerves as she followed the woman through a labyrinth of corridors to a back office. The windows were open, letting in the cool spring breeze.

“Facilities hasn’t turned off the heat yet,” Lindsay said with a grimace. “Sorry if it’s a bit warm.”

Rose shook her head and settled herself in the seat that Lindsay gestured to. She couldn’t help but notice the strategically-placed box of tissues that sat on the end table beside her.

“So what brings you to our office today, Rose?”

That short sentence was enough to make the backs of Rose’s eyes prickle. _Great_.

“I, er, I’ve been… struggling lately,” she said lamely, twisting her fingers in her lap until her knuckles popped.

“Struggling with anything in particular, or just generally?”

Rose licked her lips and took a deep breath. _I got a text from Jimmy_. It had been a week since he had first messaged her and, true to his promise, he hadn’t texted her again. _Yet_. Every morning though, Rose awoke half-nauseous as she checked her phone, wondering if it would be the day that he lost his patience and texted her again.

“Last week, I got a message from my ex-boyfriend,” she confessed, mortified when the stinging in her eyes grew worse. How was she already close to crying within the first two minutes?

“Mmm.” Lindsay nodded but stayed quiet until the silence grew too uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it took me by surprise.” _Understatement of the year_.

“Is this a boyfriend you met locally or…?”

Rose shook her head. “Nah, back when I lived in London. We… didn’t part on great terms. Well. We didn’t part on _any_ terms.”

There was something heavy and aching deep in Rose’s chest. All the feelings of abandonment and worthlessness flooded through her, as though she was eighteen again and waiting, night after night, for Jimmy to come home, only to get a text—a _text_ —from him saying he’d found a new girl and was moving in with her. Two and a half years of building a relationship with someone she had been madly in love with, gone, with a single message.

_Why wasn’t I good enough?_

Her face crumpled. She snagged a few tissues and attempted to dry her eyes in the hopes her tears would stop on their own, but it was no use. Sobs shook her body, and through them, she haltingly blurted out the entire story of Jimmy, from its magical beginning, its lackluster middle, and its ugly end.

She told Lindsay everything she’d never said before, not to her mother, not to James. She talked about the shouting arguments they’d gotten into, the names he had called her, the condescension that dripped from his words whenever Rose had discussed plans for her own personal growth. She explained how violent Jimmy could get. It was never directed at her, but she’d had to replace quite a few mugs, decorations, and photo frames whenever he lashed out. She’d had to patch up several holes whenever he’d gone into one of his rages and kicked the walls.

It was embarrassing to tell the story and see what an unhealthy, toxic relationship she’d been in. Not only been in, but _fought_ for. She had tried so hard to make things with Jimmy work, and it had all been for nothing in the end.

Looking back, she hated herself for staying with Jimmy as long as she had. For waiting around for him even though all the evidence was in front of her, telling her their relationship was over. She hated that she _grieved_ the ending of the relationship when it was the best thing that had ever happened to her. And she hated that she had settled for so little, for believing that was all she was worth. If someone had tried to explain to her sixteen-year-old self that one day she would be in a relationship with someone like James, she would have laughed and told them where they could stuff it, because firstly, people like James didn’t exist, and secondly, they didn’t want someone like _her_.

Rose’s voice was raw and she had a sinus headache by the time the session ended fifty minutes later. But despite how poorly she felt, the knot in her stomach was mostly gone. It had been more freeing than she expected to tell the complete story to someone else without worrying about being judged. That was why she’d never confided in her mother; Jackie had been _furious_ with Jimmy when Rose ran home with her tail between her legs, but she knew her mother thought Rose was partially to blame for staying for so long. She hadn’t had the mental or emotional energy to fight with her mother about it, or to hear a million variations of “I told you so”. Therefore, Rose sugar-coated everything, or simply didn’t speak of it at all.

With a follow-up counseling appointment scheduled for the following week, Rose left Lindsay’s office and met Elsa in the waiting lounge. Elsa sprang to her feet and approached with her arms out. Rose gratefully fell into the hug, squeezing the smaller woman tightly as more tears prickled behind her eyes.

“Still wanna go for a milkshake?” Elsa murmured.

“Yeah. God, I look like a mess though.”

Elsa shrugged. “It’s a college campus. It’s always full of students who have just finished a long crying jag. C’mon. Let’s go get milkshakes.”

As they walked to the little ice cream shop on the outer edge of the campus, Rose summarized the counseling appointment, confiding in Elsa many of the details of her disastrous relationship with Jimmy. 

“God, now I _really_ want to fly to London to find this asshole and kick him so hard in the crotch that his balls come out his nose.”

Rose snorted and wiped her damp eyes. “I haven’t cried this much since it originally happened. When Jimmy told me he wasn’t coming back, I cried for a day, then I started packing up my stuff to move home with my mum, and I never talked about it again.”

“Ahhh, the good old repression method. Works for a while, ‘til it doesn’t anymore. Isn’t it _so fun_ to relive all those memories again?”

Not deigning to reply to that, Rose continued, “An’ I still dunno what to do about Jimmy. If he genuinely wants to repent, I think I should let him.”

“You don’t owe him anything. You don’t owe him your time or your emotional energy. You have every right to text him and tell him to piss off, then delete and block his number and never contact him again. Or… or you can let him say his piece, thank him for apologizing—assuming the asshole even properly apologizes—and tell him you’ve moved on and would appreciate it if he let you move on.”

Rose sighed but didn’t respond since they’d reached the creamery. They stepped into the small, over-air-conditioned building that was decorated with red metallic tables and chairs that, when coupled with the black and white checkered floors, gave off a very retro ‘50s vibe. They each ordered the same thing, a large chocolate milkshake with whipped cream, and took their drinks to the outdoor seating.

For a while, they didn’t speak, instead sitting in a comfortable silence as they watched the late-afternoon campus traffic. It was approaching the top of the hour, so the longer they sat there, the more students they saw bustling around the walkways, on their way to another class or home for the day.

_James should be finished with his class by now_ , Rose noted when she saw a skinny man with brown hair that reminded her of her boyfriend. Grabbing her phone, she opened her message thread with James and typed, “I hope classes went well today xo. Can I come by your house for dinner tonight? I can bring takeaway. I’m craving Thai.”

Drumming her fingers against the table as she waited for a reply, Rose took an absent sip of her milkshake and exited her conversation with James. In WhatsApp, she found Jimmy’s name and pulled up his messages.

“I’m gonna text him,” Rose blurted.

Elsa blinked for a moment, before understanding dawned across her face. She reached over and threaded her fingers through Rose’s in silent solidarity.

Her hands shook so much that it took a few tries, but finally she managed to type, “Okay. I’m ready to listen.”

Just as she sent that message, a new one from James came in.

_Oooh, Thai sounds marvelous. As does spending the night with you._

_Er. Did you want to spend the night? I’d love it if you did, but don’t want to presume._

The giddy joy that always came from talking with James swelled through her. “I might be persuaded to spend the night with you.” She added the winking kiss emoji.

“I seriously hope those moon eyes are directed at your boyfriend and not your ex,” Elsa said.

“I’m not making _moon eyes_ ,” Rose muttered, but she couldn’t help the small smile as her phone buzzed again.

_Good thing I can be veeeery persuasive then_. He included the eggplant emoji and smirking face. She nearly snorted her milkshake up her nose.

“Mooooon eyyyyyes,” Elsa sang. “Rose and Ja-ames sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

“Shut up,” Rose laughed, giving her friend a half-hearted shove.

Returning to her phone, she typed, “Let me know when you want me to come.”

_Oh, I *always* want you to come._

_But any time after five is good. I haven’t got any homework this weekend (woohoo!) so I’m about to head to the store for groceries and cat supplies._

“Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’ve picked up dinner. Love you xo.”

_Love you too xo._

“Hot date tonight?” Elsa asked innocently.

Rose merely winked.

She passed the next half hour with Elsa, enjoying her milkshake and the company until the sun disappeared behind some buildings and it got too cold to stay sitting outside.

“Text me if you need some moral support whenever douchebag ex texts you back,” Elsa said when Rose walked with her back to her dormitory. “And not to get preachy, but I really think you should talk to James sooner rather than later. Just sort of catch him up with everything that’s going on so there are no surprises down the road.”

“I’ll try. It’s hard, is all.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I don’t relish the day I have to explain my rude ex to my next significant other. But it’ll be good, in the end. And if James is a dick about it, I’ll kick him until _his_ balls come out his nose.”

“Duly noted.” Rose held out her arms and hugged Elsa. “Thanks for everything today.”

“You bet. See ya. Have fun with your boyf.”

Since it wasn’t too far away, Rose walked to the Thai restaurant and placed an order for their dinner. Afterwards, she hailed a Lyft ride to James’s house. His car wasn’t in the driveway yet, even though it was nearly half past five. No matter. Using the key he’d given her at Christmas, Rose unlocked his front door and was immediately greeted by a furry black and gray mass.

It was difficult to kick off her shoes when Pippin rubbed the entire length of his body across her shins and ankles, chirping as he did so. When her shoes were successfully removed, she bent down to scratch him beneath the chin. His throat vibrated non-stop as he purred and drooled, arching into her touch. He’d been leaning so heavily into her hand that when she pulled away, he face-planted into the floor and let out a cry.

“You are the most pathetic excuse for a cat I’ve ever seen,” she muttered. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

Pippin jolted to his feet at the word “dinner” and he zoomed into the kitchen. Rose followed at a more leisurely pace, and was joined a few seconds later by a sleepy Merry. He chirped, then sat in front of his empty food dish.

Rose set the Thai food on the counter and walked to the closet that held the plastic tub of cat food. She filled the bowls in the kitchen, then went to the cat tree, where Gollum’s bowl sat on the floor beneath it. The cat in question was tucked into one of the boxes, though he stuck his head out when he realized Rose was carrying the container of food.

“Hey you,” she greeted, cautiously letting Gollum sniff her fingers.

He did for a few seconds, then bumped his head into her hand before he leaped out of the box and began pacing beside his dish.

_Progress_ , Rose thought as she dumped his portion of kibble into the metal dish.

As she returned the tub of food to the closet, she heard the front door open and James called out, “Sorry boys, lost track of time. Ready for dindin? Who wants dindin? Boys? Pip? Hello?”

Rose skipped to the front door, where James was laden down with a dozen bags. Most of them were dangling from his wrists and fingers, though he had several cradled to his chest, obstructing his view. He looked in peril of dropping everything.

“Need a hand?”

He let out a yelp and flinched backwards so violently he banged into the front door with a painful thud. Wincing, Rose rushed forward to help as he scrambled to keep a grasp on the bags.

“Jesus!” he panted as she took the bags in his arms.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I texted you, telling you I was here. Guess you didn’t see it.”

They stepped into the kitchen and dropped the bags onto the table. Noticing the containers of takeaway on the counter, James said, “Ooh, smells yummy.”

Together, they got all of the groceries that needed refrigerating put away, but didn’t bother with the room-temperature foods. When he said there were still a few things in the back of his car, Rose followed James outside and called dibs on the bag of cat food over the two heavy-looking containers of litter.

“My strong, manly boyfriend,” she cooed when he hefted the containers out of the boot. She meanwhile supported the cat food on her hip as though she were carrying a toddler, and rushed forward to open the front door for him.

He dropped the containers of litter by the door with a thump loud enough to rattle the floor, then he took the cat food from her and set it next to the litter. Before she could say anything, he had her cheeks in his hands and his mouth on hers, kissing her as though he hadn’t seen her in years rather than two days ago when they met for brunch in the dining hall.

Not that she was complaining. Her body went hot and tight as his lips devoured hers, prickling delicious goosebumps across her skin. His touch was electrifying as one of his hands migrated to the hem of her sweatshirt, dipping it beneath the fabric to splay his broad palm across her lower back.

“Hi,” he murmured, only getting that one word out before he devoured her mouth once more.

His lips pushed and pulled with hers, rougher than he usually was. It was a nice—more than nice—change of pace; his desperation fanned her own until she was panting and writhing against him. She snaked her hands beneath his jumper to grasp his hips, using him for leverage to press onto her toes to kiss him better. With every nip of his teeth at her bottom lip, every caress of his tongue against hers, liquid fire built between her legs. Impatient to move things along but not wanting to take control away from James, she reciprocated his kisses with equal fervor and went along with whatever direction he wanted to go.

He bumped his hips into hers, and she could feel the impressive length of him growing behind his zip. He nudged into her again, and she realized he was walking her backwards, guiding her to the living room.

_Can’t even make it to the bedroom_. She willingly followed until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the couch. Without breaking the kiss, they sank onto the sofa. Rose lay on her back while James awkwardly hovered above her, one knee on the cushions while he stood on his other leg.

“C’mere.” She grabbed the belt loops of his jeans and _pulled_ until he fell into her with a curse and a squeak.

He was completely hard in his trousers now. Rose was trying her best to grind up into him, but the denim of her jeans was too thick for her to feel much of anything. James, however, grunted as he rocked his hips into hers, rubbing his erection into her again, again, again. She wrapped a leg around his hips to drive him harder against her, desperate for any bit of friction she could find. He must have realized this wasn’t working for her, because he pulled back slightly and, with fumbling fingers, undid the button and zip of her jeans, then tugged the fabric down her legs, taking her knickers along for the ride. She arched her bum off the sofa to help, and was soon naked from the waist down.

“Rather eager tonight, aren’t you?” she asked, breathless, as he scrabbled with the fastenings of his own jeans.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he admitted, his cheeks turning red with more than arousal. “I’d been wondering how I could ask to see you tonight without it… er, without…”

“Without it sounding like a booty call?” she asked innocently.

He winced, but ultimately nodded. He began working his jeans and pants down his hips when he suddenly stopped right before the good part. His happy trail led to a tantalizing peek of dark hair that Rose was impatient to see in full.

But he dropped his hands away from his clothes. “God, I didn’t ask… is this all right? I’m sorry, I just sort of… jumped you at the front door and…”

“This is more than all right. I am a very willing and eager participant,” she promised. “Can we get on with it now?”

James’s shoulders loosened as he grinned at her and yanked his trousers down only far enough to free up all of the necessary parts. Kneeling between her thighs, he lazily stroked himself with one hand while his other dipped between her legs. He swore when he felt how ready she was. With no more delay, James guided himself into position and sank into her wet heat in one long, smooth motion.

It was hard and fast, with James setting a punishing rhythm he rarely initiated. Rose was so glad they were at his house rather than her flat, since she was sure her neighbors would not have appreciated hearing the range of noises they were making. Hell, they were loud enough that the cats scampered down the hall to James’s bedroom.

Every subsequent thrust of his body into hers was better than the one before, mounting her pleasure higher and higher until she could barely catch her breath. Consciousness briefly left her as, with a cry, she was lost in the tidal wave of ecstasy and endorphins. She was only vaguely aware of the relieved grunt James let out, of the sensation of him releasing deep inside her.

Rose was panting and sweating, her thighs burning from squeezing his hips so tightly, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when her mind was blissfully blank and empty of anything that wasn’t the pleasure James had wrung from her. He, meanwhile, trembled above her, making no move to get up.

She absently stroked his damp hair and kissed his flushed forehead. “Dinner’s probably cold.”

“Mmm. S’what microwaves are for.”

“Reheating food ‘cos we got distracted with shagging?”

“Seems to be its most recent purpose.” He let out a full-body sigh and tilted his head up, resting his chin on her breast over the sweatshirt they hadn’t taken the time to remove. “Not complaining about that. When people said sex is better than food, I thought they were mad. But here we are, and I wouldn’t mind going hungry if it meant I could make love with you.”

Rose beamed and couldn’t help but haul him up for another kiss that turned into two that turned into a hundred. (It’s not like dinner could get any colder, after all.) They managed to remove all of their clothing this time, leisurely exploring every inch of newly-revealed skin, before joining together, rocking and thrusting and gasping their love until they tipped over the edge of ecstasy again.

By the time they came down from that second high—less intense but no less pleasurable than the first—they were both exhausted and famished. They played rock-paper-scissors to determine who would go warm up their dinner and bring it out to the living room. James lost, and though he grumbled about being forced to move off of a beautiful, naked Rose, he dutifully fetched their food. Neither of them put clothes on, although Rose did excuse herself to the loo to relieve her bladder and to clean up a little; she was rather… _sticky_.

“If you had to get up anyway, you should’ve been in charge of getting the food,” James whined when she came back to the living room. He was sitting, stark naked, on a nest of blankets in front of his coffee table, where there sat two steaming bowls of pad thai.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“If anything, you’re the one feeling sore,” he said, with an insufferably smug smirk.

Despite the dull ache between her legs and the burning in her thighs, Rose frowned quizzically and said, “Sore? Why on earth would I be sore?”

He pouted. “Clearly I’ll need to try harder after dinner.”

She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him to make him particularly horny this evening, but she wasn’t going to complain if he wanted to go again once they’d eaten. It had been a while since they’d spent an entire night worshipping each other. Even if they didn’t get around to actual sex, it would be nice to merely twine her naked body with his and bask in the intimacy of being in love with her best friend.

Atop the pile of clothes it had fallen onto when James was tugging off her jeans earlier, Rose’s phone vibrated with a new text. Glancing at the notification preview, she saw it was from Jimmy. She found she didn’t particularly care about what he had to say. Not right now, at least, when she was busy enjoying herself and her date night with her boyfriend.

“You can get that,” he said when she hit the side button on her phone, marking the screen go dark. “You know I don’t mind.”

“I mind,” she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder. “It can wait.”

With a humming giggle, he kissed the top of her head then snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer into his side. She went willingly, shivering against the goosebumps that prickled across her body at so much of his skin pressed to hers.

“I could get used to this,” she murmured, resting her palm on his thigh and absently rubbing his leg hair the wrong way.

“What, shagging? That’s good to know.”

She pinched him. “You arse. I meant… _this_.” She gestured vaguely to the living room. “Living here with you. Permanently. Not checking in to make sure I can come over. Calling for takeaway ‘cos we can’t stop having sex. Making naked weekends a thing. Cohabitating. Being domestic together. Y’know. Being stupidly, head-over-heels in love with each other, forever. I don’t want to go back to my flat because whenever I’m there, I wish I was here, with you. It’s stupid, but I get lonely when I’m not with you. And not lonely as in I physically can’t function without you, but lonely b’cos I’d rather be with you. Even if we’re sitting in complete silence working on our own stuff, just _knowing_ you’re there with me is enough.”

James was quiet for a few long seconds. Long enough that Rose began to feel a bit self-conscious, so she twirled her fork through her dinner and stuffed a huge bite into her mouth.

“You know how to make a bloke feel all loved up,” he said, and Rose was alarmed to hear his voice break.

His eyes were sparkling slightly, brimming with unshed tears. He blinked them away after a few seconds and waited until she swallowed her food before bending down to peck a feather-light kiss to her lips.

“I’m serious,” she insisted.

“Oh, I know. My brain sort of short-circuited though. It’s either give a blasé reply or start blubbering, so I’m going for the former, ta.”

Rose snorted. She nuzzled into his shoulder so she didn’t have to look at him as she continued, “Well, I’m gonna keep being sentimental, so go get the tissues if you need ‘em. But I _need_ you to know how much I love you. You wax poetic at me all the time, so it’s my turn to wax it at you. Because I can’t bear the thought of you not knowing or understanding _exactly_ how loved you are. You’re everything I never expected to have… never thought I _deserved_ to have…” Now she was getting blubbery. _Great_. “So thank you. For being you. For loving me. For letting me love you.”

“Oh, stop it,” James said, his voice thick. He was blinking rapidly, his eyes rimmed with red. “God, you’re making me _weep_. What on earth did I do to warrant such emotion tonight?”

Rose shrugged, even though she knew the answer. “You are… the _best_ life partner.”

“Well, right back at you,” he replied, blotting his eyes and nose with a napkin. “I thank my lucky stars every night that you came to a university in America and made the poor decision to enroll in a chemistry class you had no business in taking and that you didn’t think I was a mad stalker for ambushing you outside the loo the day we first introduced ourselves.”

“Welllllll,” she said, stretching out the word as he often did, “I _did_ sort of think you were mad at first. Endearing, though.”

“Thank heavens for that,” he grumbled, feigning affront. He chewed on the corner of his cheek for a second before he said, “When I realized I was attracted to you, I had every intention of… well, not _lying_ , exactly… but pretending I had more relationship experience than I actually had. I created all these elaborate ways to woo you, if I ever plucked up the courage to ask you out. But then as I fell in love with you, I found that I didn’t want you to fall in love with a version of me that didn’t exist. And, well, you made it so _easy_ to be myself around you. No fibbing needed.”

“I’m glad. I love you just as you are.”

Turning away from her mostly empty bowl of pad thai, Rose pivoted in one smooth motion until she was straddling his lap. His hands went to her hips, running them up and down her bum and thighs. She draped her arms loosely over his shoulders, letting her fingers play with the hair on the back of his head, before she leaned down and planted a kiss to his lips. His fingers dug into her arse as he opened his mouth for her, letting her explore at her leisure.

She had always loved kissing and being kissed. In all of the relationships she’d been in, serious or casual, kissing had been one of her favorite things to do. Sex was wonderful, of course, but the simple pleasure of her lips pressed to her partner’s, her hands on their body, their breath sharing the same space… it was intoxicating. Some of her partners had been more impatient than others, wanting to progress straight to shagging after hardly any kissing, but James seemed to enjoy kissing as much as she did. He reciprocated every ounce of passion that she brought to the kiss, as if twining his very soul around hers as they lost themselves in each other.

Her mind emptied of anything apart from him until minutes had passed without her realizing it. A shift of her hips told her how interested he was getting in the activities that would follow the kiss; in response, her core went molten with desire. A dull throb that had nothing to do with the two rounds of sex they’d already engaged in pulsed between her legs, growing hotter and more insistent the longer the kiss went on.

And still he didn’t try to speed things up. He didn’t guide her hips into a grind against him, nor did he go right in with his fingers between her legs to hurry her along for the main event. Instead, he was enjoying the ride, letting her set and keep the pace, matching it beautifully.

Her phone buzzed again, and she paid it no mind. She couldn’t be bothered to give her attention to anyone but James. Why would she want to focus on anything other than drawing the sweetest of moans from him?

As Elsa had told her, she didn’t owe Jimmy anything, least of all her time. Even though she said she was willing to listen, she felt no urgency to hear what he had to say.

“I love you,” she murmured to James, placing her mouth on the side of his neck. She began to suck, hard enough to make him shudder, but not hard enough to leave a lingering mark. “Can we take this to a bed? I’d like to kiss you _everywhere_ and it might work better if you’re lying down. ‘Sides, a bed’s comfier than the floor and has more room than a couch.”

“‘Course,” he rasped, blinking up at her with dazed, heavy-lidded eyes. 

She planted one last kiss to his shoulder, then, with great effort, pushed herself to her feet. She reached down and helped tug him up before she twined their fingers together and guided him down the hall.

Her phone lay forgotten on the heap of clothes in the living room, where it continued to buzz with new messages that Rose wouldn’t see until the following morning. Even then, she only vaguely skimmed them, unable to devote much attention to them as she got ready for her morning work shift at the grocery store.

She’d read enough to see the sincerity of Jimmy’s messages, or at least the feigned sincerity. Given how badly she had been burned, she refused to let her guard down completely but was eager to finally end this chapter of her life and move on to the next. At long last, she was putting many long-lived demons to rest, closing the door on her past with Jimmy and paving the path to her future with James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, I'd love to hear from you 💜 Comments from you all make my day and make me feel like writing this story is worth the time and effort it takes to make it sound nice 💜


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Jimmy talk a few things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~4500 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit
> 
> So this chapter was originally approaching (and would have surpassed) 10,000 words, so I broke it into two slightly-smaller chapters. The good news is that the next chapter should be up in a couple of days, since it's pretty much already finished. And I figured we could all use a small dose of fluff during this hellish, hectic election week 😅

Over the last several months of sleeping—literal sleeping—with James, Rose grew accustomed to being woken earlier than she preferred. At first, it was because the cats, used to their routine, would barge into the bedroom at around seven-thirty and start demanding breakfast. She had nearly shrieked the first time Pippin launched himself onto their bed, yowling right at their heads. James had grunted and shooed him away, but the cat was persistent, and continued pestering them until James crawled out of bed and fed him and his brothers.

Eventually, the cats realized their new housemate wasn’t as much of an early riser as their master; on the nights Rose stayed with James, they would graciously wait until eight to start making a fuss.

James was usually awake by that point, and would slip out of bed, trying not to make noise or shake the bed too much, but invariably, Rose would wake up, too. Not completely, though, and she enjoyed spending the next hour or so drifting between dozing and wakefulness; she especially appreciated it when James would slide back into bed and they would cuddle, or sometimes indulge in lazy morning lovemaking. He only did it around half the time; the other half, he would get started on breakfast or would make himself a cup of coffee and sit quietly reading or studying or watching the television. It made the mornings he returned to bed with her more cherished.

Therefore, Rose wasn’t at all surprised to feel her boyfriend slip out of bed, even though it was dark through the windows. She didn’t have the energy to turn to see the time; plus, the ache between her thighs after three rounds of lovemaking the night before disincentivized her from moving at all. Not that she was complaining. There was something satisfying about the soreness left over from thoroughly having sex, almost like the pleasant burn after a vigorous, refreshing exercise.

Rose absently reached out and rested a hand on the warm imprint of James’s body on the mattress beside her, wishing it was his actual body instead.

The next thing she was aware of was someone picking up her hand and moving it. She cracked open her bleary eyes. James lay on his side, arms outstretched as he wriggled closer until he was pressed to her. Maneuvering until she mirrored his position, she flung a leg over his hips and draped an arm around his ribs. He was naked, same as her, since neither of them had bothered with pajamas the night before. The length of his body molded to hers until there was hardly any space between them at all.

Shivering lightly at the feel of so much skin touching hers, Rose tucked her head into his neck, breathing in the warm, musky scent of him. 

They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Rose would gladly have stayed there for the rest of the day, but alas, she worked the afternoon shift at the grocery store. Speaking of…

“What time issit?” she mumbled.

“Seven,” he answered, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

Excellent. She didn’t have to be at work until ten, and she planned to stay precisely where she was until the last possible moment.

James, however, had different plans.

When it became clear that she wasn’t dozing off any longer, he threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her face up. He was so close that his nose brushed against hers. The warm puffs of his slow breathing tickled her lips, narrowing her focus to nothing except him. She could count the freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks, if she wanted to. Could see the day-old stubble shadowing his cheeks in what would probably be a nice beard, if he ever decided to quit shaving.

Glancing up, she noticed his gaze was as intense as hers, his eyes dark and depthless, twitching ever so slightly as they traced her features. She wondered what he focused on, when they lay like this. Was there anything he particularly liked to admire?

“What are you lookin’ at?” she blurted.

He blinked, his gaze refocusing on hers. His brows knitted together as he replied, “Er… you?”

“No, I mean specifically. Are you looking at anything in particular? Like… up close, I like looking at your freckles.”

“My freckles?” 

“Mhm. You’ve got lots of ‘em, and they’re adorable.”

Rose reached up and brushed her fingertips along the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones, following the trail of freckles up his temple to the ridge of his brow. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth quirking into a smile when she rubbed the pad of her finger through his eyebrow in the wrong direction.

“I like that your eyes are slightly different depending on the lighting.”

It took her a minute, having forgotten her question. “Really?”

He nodded. “Right now, they’re dark. Almost completely brown, like mine. If I were to turn the lamp on, they would go to a more whiskey brown. When you’re in the sun, they go even lighter. Amber colored, like they’re reflecting back the sun’s light. Sometimes they’re hazel brown, sometimes hazel green. And if you’re wearing a lot of eye makeup, they can almost go gray. I love watching them, to see what they’re doing.”

She’d never paid much attention to her eyes before, or even thought about what they looked like, apart from generic _brown_.

“You’ve got very pretty eyes,” he concluded, bending closer to her. His mouth approached her eyes, and she shut them automatically. A second later his lips fluttered gently across one eyelid, then the other, before he planted a kiss low on her forehead.

She smiled at him when he nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers. He hummed through a grin, eyes slowly closing again as he angled his head to the side and finally pressed his mouth to hers.

Kissing James was always a slightly out-of-body experience. Her head emptied of anything apart from the feel of his lips on hers, of his hands on her body. It was as though the universe melted away, leaving nothing else behind except for them.

The entire length of their bodies was twined together, their front halves in complete contact. Despite all the love they’d made the night before, Rose could feel James’s burgeoning arousal the longer the kiss continued. There was nothing urgent about his movements this morning, not like last night, when he’d been utterly insatiable and almost frantic. Nevertheless, Rose felt her herself beginning to respond to him. Her heart rate increased, pumping blood all throughout her body and sending throbbing, delicious heat to all the right places.

Even in the height of her relationship with Jimmy, when it seemed like all they did was party and shag, Rose didn’t remember it ever being this all-consuming. It was intoxicating, and not even the last four months of being physically intimate with James had cooled her lust for him. She wanted him just as much—if not more—now as she did at the beginning. The deeper in love she fell with him, the stronger her desire to share her body and soul with him. Sex with James was so much more than physical pleasure; it was emotional satisfaction unlike anything she had experience before. Which, of course, made the sex even better, too.

His hands roamed at will across her skin, tracing abstract patterns and shapes into her flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He placed his palm onto her hip and rocked his entire body into hers; his chest pressed to hers, and his hips rubbed deliciously against hers. Pleasure swept through her belly, settling low behind her navel. 

He repeated the motion, and it was only then that she realized he was trying to coax her onto her back. Disentangling her legs from his, she complied, pleased when James followed suit immediately. He hovered above her, propping himself up with his forearms on either side of Rose’s head as he lazily rolled his hips into hers, stimulating both of them as the hard length of him teased at her folds.

“Is this all right?” he murmured, his breath catching in his lungs. “We, er, did it a lot last night…”

“This is perfect,” she interrupted.

“Dunno what’s gotten into me,” he admitted. “Can’t seem to get enough of you.”

“I’m certainly not complaining. Well. At least not ‘til I can’t walk anymore.”

He snorted and puffed up with an insufferable, egotistical pride. She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose before tugging him down for another kiss.

It was one of the slowest build-ups Rose had ever experienced. It was as though she and James were more focused on kissing, caressing, and _feeling_. They were merely letting things progress without much thought, together in the moment and basking in the emotional and physical love that they shared. Lovemaking in one of its purest forms. 

Rose was hardly aware of the lingering ache between her legs when he slowly slid into her and began to move. They continued to touch and kiss each other, their rhythm unhurried. Gentle sparks of pleasure were fanned into a blazing fire that took them both by surprise when, minutes later, Rose gasped and moaned, clenching around him. It was more intense than she expected, especially considering she’d been perfectly satiated when they’d gone to bed eight hours ago. Instead, it felt as though she hadn’t had sex in months, and her body was overcome with hormones and endorphins, flooding her senses with pleasure and love for the man atop her, inside her.

When she came down from her high, James was getting close to his. His face was tense with concentration, eyes squeezed shut as he was able to selfishly focus on himself. Sweat beaded at his temples as he rocked his body into hers, his tempo quickening as his urgency increased. His breathing became ragged, and the needy little moans he let out squeezed her heart. She loved seeing him like this. She loved watching him lose himself in her. She loved knowing he was finding pleasure and completion with her, just as she’d found it with him.

“James,” she whispered, reaching up to rest her hands on his pectorals. She rubbed her palms through his sparse smattering of chest hair. He forced open his eyes, his rhythm slowing, to blink dazedly down at her. She clamped her thighs tighter around his hips in apology and in encouragement; she hadn’t meant to make him lose his rhythm, but she hadn’t been able to stay silent. “I love you so much.”

His throat bobbed as his breath stuttered. “Love you, too… _Oh_.”

His hips quickly found their previous rhythm, though with slightly less finesse as his desperation and desire took over. Grunting wordlessly, his back bowed and he arched his hips deeply into hers, finally giving in to his release and his pleasure.

Rose watched him intently, enjoying the pure _relief_ playing across his face, slackening his features. She wanted to kiss him. When it seemed as though he was coming down from the throes of passion, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and guided him down for a kiss.

Breathing harshly through his nose, he reciprocated the kiss feverishly. When they broke apart, he dropped his head into the crook of her neck and slipped his hands under her back, holding her tightly. She returned the hug just as fiercely, never wanting to let him go again. Rose didn’t want to go into work; she wanted to stay in bed with James all day and do nothing more than _exist_ with him, beside him.

“By the way,” he murmured, his voice somewhat slurred. Rose cracked open an eye and saw him smiling sleepily at her. “Happy Birthday.”

The words came out so tenderly, so reverently, so _confidently_ , as though it were her actual date of birth. For an embarrassing second, Rose worried she had somehow lost track of an entire month; she blamed the lingering endorphins for her foggy brain as she blinked wordlessly at him.

He broke into a sheepish, boyish grin. “So, not today then?”

It took her mind a minute to catch up before she realized the date. April had begun, and with it, James’s mission to figure out her birthday.

Snorting, Rose said, “No, not today, you numpty.”

“Though you could be pulling an April Fool’s prank on me,” he mused. “Wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events?”

“I promise you, on my own life, your life, the life of my mother, and the lives of your cats, today is not my birthday. And for the record, I don’t like April Fool’s Day. Never been a fan. It gives arseholes an excuse to be bigger arseholes.”

James pouted. “Well, is your birthday coming up soon?”

“Sometime this month,” she replied innocently, feeling a wide grin stretch across her lips.

“Ro-oooose! Can’t you give me a hint?” he begged. “A teeny tiny little hint?”

Rose tapped her finger against her chin before she answered, “It’s not the first day of the month, or the last day of the month.”

James groaned and face-planted into her breasts. Giggling, Rose carded her fingers through his hair. “Poor baby.”

“You’re making it very hard to be a prepared boyfriend,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“Now you know how I felt on your birthday. Besides, spending time with you is all I want for my birthday. And maybe some birthday sex.”

“How am I supposed to have sex with you on your birthday if you won’t tell me when it is?” he challenged, grinning smugly.

“Guess you’ll have to shag me every day, just to be safe.”

“You drive a hard bargain. But I suppose I can rise to the task. All in the name of love.”

Rose pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then nudged for him to get off her. “I should get a shower. I have to be at work at ten.”

“Bugger, I forgot.” He heaved a sigh. “I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re finished.”

With a parting kiss, they rose from the bed and parted ways.

True to his word, James had a stack of waffles and eggs waiting for Rose when she stepped into the kitchen. He was also stirring honey into a mug of tea, which he set at her place at the table. They ate their breakfast and chatted mindlessly about their plans for the day and school assignments: James offered to proofread her essay for her English composition class, while Rose offered to quiz him with flashcards for his upcoming political ideologies exam.

After they’d eaten, they cleaned up from breakfast and dinner the night before. Their bowls were still in the living room, as were piles of their clothes.

“Aha!” Rose had forgotten where she’d left her phone until she spotted it sitting atop her jeans. She picked it up, and saw she had quite a few email and text notifications. Her stomach churned when she saw Jimmy’s name. In the passion from the night before and that morning, she had forgotten about Jimmy and how she had told him she was ready to talk to him. She was beginning to regret that decision.

After taking a deep, calming breath, she unlocked her phone and opened WhatsApp. There were messages from Jimmy, her mum, and a friend back home. She tapped Jimmy’s name to bring up his message thread.

_Thanks for hearing me out. I've been spending the past week figuring out exactly what I want to say to you, but it doesn't feel good enough._

_I don’t know if I can ever tell you how sorry I am Rosie. I’m sorry for everything, but especially for hurting you, and not pulling my weight in our relationship. I’m sorry for going out all the time, and wasting our money. I’m sorry I left you with the bills and for never paying you back. And I am so sorry for cheating on you. It makes me sick, and I wish I had a good reason for why I did it, but I don’t, except that I’m an awful, terrible person._

“Ready to go?”

Rose jumped and had to fight not to hide her phone from James. Instead, she backed out of Jimmy’s messages and opened her mum’s. They were the usual “good morning” messages, along with some gossip from the estate.

“Yep, just wanted to check my messages. Nothin’ important.”

She slipped her phone into her back pocket and gathered up her clothes from the floor. She dumped them into the laundry basket to do later, then followed James to his car, where he drove her to work.

All morning, Rose thought about Jimmy’s messages, trying to mentally transcribe a reply. For all intents and purposes, his apology seemed genuine—she would have to tell Elsa, who had bet he wouldn’t actually give a real apology.

However, after years of putting up with his apologies only to have her heart broken again, Rose was wary about getting caught up in his honeyed words. She made a pact with herself: she would accept his apology, thank him, and then put him firmly behind herself so that she could look ahead to her future with James.

She didn’t have a chance to respond to Jimmy until the late afternoon, by which point she wasn’t sure if he would be awake or not, what with the five-hour time difference. In any case, she sank onto her sofa, exhausted from her day of running the cash register at the grocery store, and opened up his messages. She read them again, and was no closer to having an answer for him than she did when she first skimmed his words.

Maybe simple was the way to go.

“Thank you for apologizing,” she typed and sent.

A few seconds later, she saw that he was typing. Still awake, then.

 _I really am sorry, Rosie. If I could turn back time and do it all over again, I would change everything_.

Rose snorted to herself; he would have to go back to almost the beginning of their relationship if he wanted to make any real changes. And honestly, if someone appeared in her living room with a time machine and offered to let her go back and change the way her relationship with Jimmy had gone, she would not even be tempted to take the offer. For as painful and traumatic as it was, it had eventually led her to James; he was the one thing in her life she would never regret, the one thing in her life she would never want to change.

Deciding to be perfectly blunt with Jimmy, she said, “I wouldn’t. You broke my heart, but I came out all the better for it. I’m in a good place now. Well. Apart from when you first texted me. But even that was a good thing. It showed me I hadn’t let myself grieve for everything that happened, but I’m fixing that now. I’m happy.”

_I heard you went back to school. In America?_

“Yeah. Got a full tuition scholarship from…” Rose deleted that last word; she definitely was _not_ going to give him her specific location, thank you very much. “I decided I needed a fresh start.” _Best decision I ever made_.

Rose would have gladly left the conversation there, but something compelled her—the niceties of polite British conversation, perhaps—to reciprocate the questions back to him. “What have you been doing with yourself? Still making music?”

_Nah, the band broke up a year ago. For a while I tried to make it solo. Things didn’t work out._

_I’m working in construction now. Hard work, but the pay’s good. I’ve got my own flat and everything. It’s nice._

“Still with… your girlfriend? Can’t remember her name.”

_Who, Brenda? No, we split an age back. God, it must've been two or three years since I’ve seen her._

Rose’s chest hollowed out. Not only had Jimmy destroyed their two-and-a-half-year-old relationship without a care in the world, he’d destroyed it with a woman he’d only had a short fling with. She tried not to let it bother her, really, she did; but it was crushing to know she hadn’t been satisfactory enough to keep Jimmy invested. She and their relationship hadn’t been interesting enough, hadn’t been _important_ enough, for him to stay.

_This is a Jimmy problem, not a Rose problem. He’s a wanker, and that is not your fault. It’s a reflection on his character, not yours._

The little voice in the back of her mind sounded suspiciously like Elsa, and Rose couldn’t help but smile. She would have to tell her friend that she was invading her inner thoughts. Elsa, her own personal Jiminy Cricket conscience. 

“I hope you find happiness, Jimmy. I really do.” She sent that message, then followed it up with, “I appreciate your apology, and I hope it gives you peace, too.”

_I feel I haven’t done enough to atone to you. You were the most important person in my life, Rosie. And I still care a great deal about you._

“There really isn’t much more you can do. You’ve said your piece, and to be honest, I think we both just need to accept that things ended badly, but we’ve moved on. Or at least, we should move on.”

_And what if I don’t want to move on? I love you, even after all this time._

The air gusted out of Rose as though she’d been punched, and her ears rang loudly in the silence of her flat. What the _bloody hell_ was he playing at? There was no way— _no fucking way_ —he could be serious. He could _not_ love her. They hadn’t spoken in three and a half years. He hadn’t made any effort to contact her until now. While she was unspeakably grateful for that, that wasn’t the behavior of someone who supposedly loved her.

Take James, for example. On the days they didn’t see each other in person, they exchanged texts daily, even if it was something as small as “I hope you’re having a nice day” or “Thinking of you” or “Love you xoxo”. She couldn’t imagine going even a day without hearing from him in some way, shape, or form. On the days where one of them was in a bad mood, or they had a minor disagreement, they checked in with each other. Because _that’s_ what love is. It’s eternal and enduring, even though the most trying of circumstances.

Shaking herself out of her head, Rose tapped away furiously on her phone.

“The feeling is *not* mutual. I have moved on. I’m in America. I’m studying something I love. I…” She nearly told Jimmy she was in a happy, healthy, loving relationship, but decided he didn’t deserve to share in or know about her joy. James was _hers_ , and she had no intentions of letting Jimmy taint him. “I am happy you’re doing better, but I won’t give you hope of there ever being an ‘us’ again. We were young, we made mistakes, and we’ve learned from them. I have no intention of going backwards.”

_Okay. Though I would like to do more for you. I left you with loads of bills to cover. It’s not fair you were out all that money. I would really like to pay you back._

Rose’s lungs seized up. “No. The debt has been paid, and I want to forget about it.” _I won’t dare give you a scrap of ammunition… I won’t let you dangle this over my head in the future_. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m going to decline. I’m also going to stop the conversation. I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to argue with you about this.”

_I’d like to discuss it with you further though. When you have the energy. Just think about it, yeah? You paid six months of rent on your own… that’s a lot of dough. Consider it reparations. Think on it, and we can talk about it later. Good night, Rosie._

Rose rolled her eyes, but closed out of her phone. _Wanker_. _Wanker, wanker, wanker_! A wanker who clearly grew and matured over the last three and a half years, but a wanker nevertheless.

She rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, where a dull ache was forming behind her brow. Wanting to instead chat with someone who most certainly was not a wanker, Rose grabbed her phone, pulled up James’s number, and dialed it. He answered on the third ring.

“Hi!” he said brightly, a grin evident in his voice.

“Hey,” she replied, her body releasing all of its tension as she let his voice wash over her.

“Finished with work? Wanna hang out? Or do a long-distance Netflix and literal chill date night?”

Rose bit her lip around a laugh. “What, too worn out to do a proper Netflix and chill date night?”

He was silent for the span of a few heartbeats before he confessed, “There must seriously be something wrong with me if I would gladly have a real Netflix and chill date with you. We’ve had sex, what, four times in the last twenty-four hours? Not even… more like twenty hours. My bits are gonna fall off. And how are you even _walking_?”

Giggling, she said, “Quite full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Pfft, well clearly I haven’t done a good enough job, then.” He sniffed. “But seriously… isn’t this weird? I thought we were beyond the horny hump.”

She choked. “The _horny hump_??”

“Yeah, you know…” With the way he paused, it was not at all difficult for Rose to picture him in her mind’s eye, gesticulating vaguely with his hands. Her chest warmed with affection for him. “…the honeymoon period, I suppose. The time where all we want to do is shag. January. I thought we’d worked it all out of our system in January, but it’s like a second wave has hit, because good God, Rose…” He let out a wistful sigh that clenched her heart. “I want to make love with you over and over again. I want to lie naked with you and hold you and touch you. I want to _be_ with you, exist in the same space as you.”

The yearning in his voice settled heavily in her heart, and all of a sudden, she wanted him in her flat _right now_ so she could hug him. 

“I’ll be at yours as soon as possible,” she promised, standing from her couch and slipping her shoes on.

“No, wait, you don’t have to,” James hurriedly said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I want to,” she said simply. “I miss you, too. And I… if it’s something you still want, I’m really looking forward to moving in with you when my lease is finally up.”

“Something I still want? Of course I want it. I will never _not_ want it, Rose.”

Even though it felt woefully inadequate to how she felt, all Rose was able to get out was, “Me too. I’m on my way. Love you,” before she ended the call and hailed an Uber ride to take her to James. To take her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you're reading this, I'd love to hear from you 💜 I love hearing from you all, even on short little chapters like this one 💜💜


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drama surrounding the reappearance of Rose's ex-boyfriend finally comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Length: ~8400 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit (for one tiny scene)
> 
> This chapter turned out a lot longer than expected, but I doubt anyone will care 😘 Buckle up, lovelies, and enjoy the ride. 😉

April was usually one of James’s least favorite months. The weather was wet and cold, and with it being the last month of the semester, it was always busy with exams and projects. This year, however, he had the pleasure of knowing it was his beloved’s birth month; even though he didn’t know the precise date, that made it all the more fun as, day after day, he greeted Rose with a “Happy Birthday” snog.

Yet every day, she giggled and said, “Not today.” He wasn’t sure what he would do on the morning she kissed him and replied instead with, “Thank you.” Despite his brilliant, magnificent brain, he was stumped on a way to make an ordinary day extraordinary for her.

Though she said she didn’t want anything for her birthday, he couldn’t help but preemptively get her a simple gift: a silver necklace with an infinity heart pendant. The heart was studded with blue zircon—one of his birthstones—while the infinity loop was studded with small diamonds, her birthstone. Cliché, he knew, but the design had caught his attention. He hoped Rose would like it.

James had been carrying it around with him since the start of the month to be presented to her on her date of birth. Whenever the hell that was.

The weeks seemed to fly by, and still it wasn’t her birthday. He had several chilling moments of panic that maybe he somehow missed it, but then resigned himself to the fact it must be at the end of the month. Her so-called hint to him had told him it wasn’t the first or last day of the month… Rose would be cheeky enough to call that a hint if it turned out her birthday was the _second_ to last day of the month. Nevertheless, James was having fun with their little game and worked to make the month special for Rose.

Though he knew she had been teasing when she’d suggested they make love every day so that she would wake up to birthday sex, they nearly met that goal, thanks to Rose staying overnight at his house more often than not. They were both growing to love the routine of cohabitating; James would drive them into the university in the morning, they would attend their respective classes, then they would meet up at the end of the day for him to drive them home again. Even on the days when one of them started earlier than the other, they drove in together, regardless.

While James’s main goal was to make April particularly special for Rose, he found himself realizing that even if it wasn’t her birthday month, he wouldn’t have done anything differently. It was a happy coincidence that the month happened to be filled with a multitude of romantic date night opportunities.

He had surprised her with tickets to the play put on by the university’s theater program, and had told her they would make an entire night out of it. He had dressed in a suit and tie; she had donned a gorgeous evening dress. Reminiscent of their Valentine’s Day plans, they’d had an early dinner out at a nice restaurant before driving to the university for the show. And when they’d gotten home, they peeled the other out of their nice clothes and made sweet love until midnight.

And when he took her to the cherry blossom festival in Washington, D.C., it wasn’t a birthday surprise, either. He would have wanted to tour the capital with Rose and bask in the beauty of the cherry trees no matter the month. There was nothing more romantic than walking hand-in-hand with Rose beneath the pink and white trees while the soft petals floated down around them. Nothing made him happier than seeing her face light up with awe as she took photograph after photograph of the scenery. Though the cherry blossoms weren’t as stunning as typical years, thanks to a warm snap in February followed by an arctic blast that killed some buds in mid-March, the scenery was stunning nevertheless.

They’d had fun exploring the various museums and historic sites in the city as well, but James’s favorite part was watching Rose scribble furiously in her sketchbook when they got back to their hotel room each night. She filled over a dozen pages during their four-day trip; she shared every single one with him, including the portrait of him she’d drawn one morning when she had awoken before him, and had occupied herself with sketching him asleep in the nude. Unlike her previous nude sketches of him, she did not cover his nether regions with a sheet, or simply not draw them at all. No, she had drawn every naked inch of him, down to the morning erection he had been sporting (which had also prompted her to draw a caricature of that very piece of his anatomy, making him howl with laughter when she eventually showed him the picture of a very prominent, very erect penis on a teeny tiny little person). 

Playing tourist with Rose was one of James’s favorite things to do, so even if it had not been Rose’s birth month, he would not have changed a thing. It was a mere bonus, pure happenstance, that they managed to go on so many romantic dates that month.

As the month plowed on, bringing him ever-closer to Rose’s elusive birthday and to the end of the semester, another date idea came to him. And this time, he intended to make it double as a birthday gift.

With only a week and a half left to go in the month, and Rose’s birthday falling somewhere in that time frame, James woke up one morning to an email from the student life office at the university. They were advertising discounted tickets to a Philadelphia Phillies baseball game at the end of the month. _Perfect_! He loved showing Rose more of the state she lived in, as well as the culture of America. And honestly, what was more American than a baseball game?

Rose was still asleep as James read the details of the email, though their alarm was due to go off in a few minutes. He silenced it on his phone and instead gently woke Rose up with a series of kisses to any part of her face not smooshed into her pillow. She grunted and buried her face completely into the pillow.

Chuckling, he tried again, this time pressing the long expanse of his body into hers. He shivered when his hips rubbed into her upper thigh; he woke up hard nearly every morning, and today was no exception. Some mornings, he didn’t feel a pressing need to do anything with it; others, when he snuggled up against Rose, his heartbeat concentrated into a dull, throbbing, insistent pulse between his legs. He was experiencing the latter, and hoped she would be in the mood to make love with him.

“Rose,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into her hair. He wriggled down a few inches and tucked his nose into the join of her neck and shoulder. He kissed her there and smiled when she shuddered. “Rooooose.”

“M’sleepin’,” she mumbled, but she tilted her head to free up her neck for him.

“Oh? Well, I guess we can’t partake in any morning _activities_ I might’ve had planned,” he lamented, though he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Goosebumps spread across her skin and he could hear her breathing going ragged the longer he kissed her.

She moaned softly when he scraped his teeth across her ear lobe. Finally, she stopped pretending. Turning her face out of her pillow, Rose slung her arm around his shoulders, hauling him closer for a proper kiss.

“Got another date idea,” he breathed between kisses.

“Don’t care,” she answered, chasing his lips.

“I’d like for it to double as your birthday gift.”

“Don’t care,” she repeated. His head emptied of all coherent thought when she reached down between them and took him in her hand, pumping him firmly. His nerves sparked with pleasure as desire settled heavily in his lower belly.

“But I… oh, _blimey_ … I care… _God_ …”

She nipped at his bottom lip and gave him a small _squeeze_ on the upstroke that made stars burst behind his eyes. “You care more about that than what we’re doing?”

He could hardly draw in breath, so focused was he on the addictive rhythm of her hand. Each drag of her fist up and down his length heightened his need for her until he was certain nothing in the world was more important than being inside her.

But the smirk on her face brought out his competitive nature.

“Well, I’m quite cl-clever,” he choked out, trembling when she tightened her hold around him and picked up the pace. “I can walk and chew gum… talk and have se- _ex_ _shit_!”

Rose guided him between her legs, nudging the tip of him into her wet heat. God, he’d barely paid any attention to her and yet she was so ready. He swallowed down his impatient whimper when she merely teased him, rubbing him through her folds rather than guiding him in.

“Hmm, I clearly am not doing a good enough job,” she mused, her voice frustratingly steady while he could hardly contain his gasps and sighs.

His brain nearly short-circuited. Not doing a good enough job? It was taking every ounce of concentration and restraint he had to try to hold this conversation with her; he would be done for if she tried any harder.

“The university is sponsoring another trip to Phillies… er, Philadelphia,” he squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut to think past the desperate need throbbing through him.

“Oh?” she asked, voice breathless as she stimulated herself with the head of his erection.

“Yeah, yep.” He cleared his throat, hoping it would stop cracking. “A trip to a Phillies game. Professional base- _ball_!”

Rose slung her leg over his hip and took him inside of her in one smooth, deep movement. Her momentum sent him to his back. Taking full advantage and giving him no reprieve, she sat astride him and began a brutal rhythm that stole his breath, stole his thoughts.

“Shit!” he rasped when the burning pressure in his belly bottomed out. _Don’t come, oh God, please don’t come…_ _Baseball. Think of baseball. Phillies, Philadelphia, bus trip, baseball game, showing Rose the stadium, teaching Rose the game… Rose… Rose…_

Rose was squeezing him from the inside, giving him such delicious friction as she arched her hips hard into his.

Fighting a losing battle, he choked out, “Sorry… gonna come… sorry… _shit_!”

Rose caught his lips in a searing kiss as he grunted and panted and moaned his way through his release, trying not to be mortified and to instead enjoy the pleasure and love flooding through him.

He was trembling when his ears stopped roaring. Cheek burning, he groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“That was delightful,” Rose said, a grin in her voice as she lightly tugged at his fingers.

“That was embarrassing,” he countered, moving his hands to her hips. “Sorry.”

She slowly pulled off of him and collapsed onto her back beside him. “You do realize I was trying to do that, right? You’re always so damn considerate and attentive. It was my turn to focus solely on you and getting you off.”

“I feel selfish for coming first,” he complained.

Rose shrugged and pecked a kiss to his temple. “How do you think I feel when you pleasure me more than once before you get off?”

“Hopefully extremely satisfied,” he drawled, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes, but kissed him soundly. “I enjoyed doing that very much for you, so shut up about it.”

He zipped his fingers across his lips, though a grin stretched across them. He caught her lips in another kiss as he let his fingers walk down her body, between her legs. She must have woken up as randy as he had been, because it hardly took any time at all before she arched her back and cried her pleasure into their quiet bedroom.

As she panted and trembled beside him, he stroked her hips, her belly, her thighs, any part of her he could reach, and tried his initial conversation again.

“The university is sponsoring a trip to a Phillies baseball game,” he said. “Have you watched baseball? It’s a fun sport. One of my favorites, actually. I probably ought to get my UK citizenship revoked for that, but I can’t get into the football matches. Though plenty of people find baseball to be boring too. To each their own. Anyways, tickets are twenty dollars, and it covers admission to the game and transportation to and from the stadium. It’s on April twenty-sixth. It’s a night game… 7:05 start time. I would like to make this your birthday gift. Well. One of your birthday gifts, since, really, I want to go to the game anyway, to hell whether it’s your birthday or not. But since I’ve only got about ten days left to choose from, I figure that’s a close enough window to claim it as a birthday gift for you. What do you think? April twenty-sixth… does that sound like a _birthday_ gift to you?”

Rose giggled and pinched his side, drawling, “Very subtle, love.”

James pouted. “Seriously? You’re _still_ not gonna give me your birth date? I’ve been patient all month long!”

Rose cackled. “You liar! You have not _at all_ been patient. At least once a day you beg me to tell you when my birthday is.”

“That _is_ me being patient,” he grumbled, though he grinned when Rose laughed at him again. Even though they would need to get up soon, he tightened his hold around her and snuggled closer to her soft, warm body. “Wanna go to the Phillies game?”

“Sounds like fun,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. His scalp prickled pleasantly, and he could have easily fallen asleep. But alas…

“We need to get up,” he groaned, burying his face farther into her neck. Rose heaved out a sigh, clearly as reluctant to move as he was. “Wanna share a shower?”

“How could I say no to that?”

With a parting kiss, they rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

oOoOo

“You know, I’ve never been to a professional sports stadium before,” Rose said as they strolled, hand in hand, away from the packed parking lot towards Citizens Bank Park, home of the Philadelphia Phillies baseball team. “Wasn’t much into sports back home, and didn’t really have the money for it.”

James gave her hand a squeeze and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Something was… _off_. She’d been agitated when he’d picked her up from her flat that morning to drive her to the university. She was short and snippy with him, but insisted she was fine even though she obviously wasn’t, which had only annoyed him in return.

He had nearly called off their date to Philly, since she obviously wasn’t having a good day and he didn’t think he could stomach an entire night of forced joviality. However, after classes, she had met him in the library as planned and was decked out in a red Phillies sweatshirt and matching lipstick, greeting him as though their tense morning hadn’t happened.

“Where did you get that?” he’d asked, fluttering his hands at her top.

“The internet. Turns out _everything_ exists on the internet,” she’d teased, bumping her hip into his.

He had been thrown by her chipper mood, and Rose must have sensed that. She reached up for a hug and squeezed him so tightly, it was as if all the tension that had been settled over his body was suddenly gone. She lightly kissed his cheek and whispered, “Sorry for this morning.”

“What was the matter?” he asked, keeping her in his arms for several more seconds.

“I’ll explain later,” she said. “I don’t really wanna talk about it now. I wanna go watch some baseball!”

It had taken everything he had to not snap at her to _just bloody talk_ to him. Instead, he promised himself he would check in with Rose after the game, or perhaps tomorrow, since it would be late by the time they got home. But he wanted to know what was bothering her, and what had been intermittently troubling her these past few weeks.

That dark day she had had nearly a month ago still niggled at the back of his mind. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but so long had passed that he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

_Hey Rose! Remember that day you yelled at me in the food court then started crying? What happened?_

No, that wouldn’t do. Because what if she didn’t remember? What if nothing at all had happened and she’d had a breakdown over a bunch of little things that didn’t matter anymore? He had been hoping she would tell him on her own time, because he didn’t want to press. And it wasn’t as though he had forgotten about the episode, but he often got too caught up in the present with Rose that he wouldn’t think of it until he was alone again. Part of his brain admonished him, telling him that he could easily have that conversation with Rose through text.

Presently, they scanned their admission tickets at the front gate and stepped through the turnstile into the stadium. James inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke, fresh air, grass, and greasy food. There was a unique and distinct scent of a baseball stadium that he loved.

Rose let go of his hand and darted forward, her gaze locked on the field in front of them. James followed, smiling to himself. He stood behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist as Rose drank in the sight of the enormous baseball friend in front of them. The grass was lush and verdant, neatly trimmed in the familiar crisscross pattern most baseball diamonds favored. The dirt of the infield looked soft and dry, though the grounds crew were in the middle of hosing it down. The late evening sun cast long shadows across the field while the stadium lights, already switched on in preparation for the night game, created a multi-shadow effect as well.

“Selfie?” James asked, fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Need some help?”

James glanced over and saw a young couple approaching them. The woman held her hand out for his phone, which he handed over. He then wrapped his arm around Rose’s middle. She turned into his side and linked her arms loosely around his hips.

The young woman took several photographs for them, all of them beautiful. James thanked her, then reciprocated the gesture, snapping a photograph of the couple with the baseball field behind them.

When the couple had departed, James took Rose’s hand again and they leisurely strolled around the concourse of the stadium. There was a beer stand every dozen paces, it seemed, and though it was ridiculously overpriced, James forked over the money and bought them a beer apiece. They sipped it as they walked, inspecting the various food stands and merchandise on display.

“What the _bloody hell_ is that?”

James laughed when Rose picked up a plush toy of a furry green creature with a plump belly and elongated snout.

“He’s the team’s mascot,” James answered. “The Phillie Phanatic.”

“What is it?”

James shrugged. “The Phanatic. He’s not really anything, I suppose. He’s his own creature. Don’t knock him, though; the fans love him.”

Rose glanced dubiously up at him, but replaced the toy. James made a mental note to order one for her as a gag gift. 

As they continued walking, James’s belly rumbled with hunger when he smelled the intoxicating aroma of bread, beef, and cheese. 

“If I get a cheesesteak, will you eat half of it?” he asked. “‘Cos I wanna get crab fries too, but I can’t eat both of those by myself. Actually, the crab fries are right over there.” He took Rose’s shoulders in his hands and pivoted her gently, pointing to a concession stand with a giant logo that read _Chickie’s & Pete’s_. He rooted in his pocket for a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Will you get us an order of fries? With cheese.”

“Er… okay,” Rose said, blinking. “What the hell is a crab fry?”

James snorted. “French fries—chips—with old bay seasoning. They’re really good, I promise.”

Rose leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky I trust your taste in food.”

She left him to go get their crab fries, while he stood in the Tony Luke’s line for a cheesesteak. Though the line was nearly thirty-people deep, it moved very quickly. Ten minutes later, he spotted Rose waiting for him in a secluded corner near the ramp they would need to take to go to their second-deck seats.

The university had bought out an entire section in right field, and James recognized many of the students lounging in the seats. He had managed to procure front-row end seats for him and Rose. He allowed her to take the end seat, then plopped unceremoniously onto the hard blue chair beside her.

“Beautiful, innit?” he asked, nudging his elbow into her ribs.

“It’s a gorgeous night,” she agreed. “Look at that sunset.”

“View’s nice too,” James said, leaning forward in his seat to look down at the field. Apart from losing a little bit of vision of the right field playing area directly beneath them, they could see the entire ballfield very well.

There was a half hour to go before game time, so they ate their dinner and chatted mindlessly with each other and with their fellow schoolmates who had come on the trip as well. They posed for a giant group photo that was then shared to all of the university’s social media pages.

James was full and content by the time the Phillies players took the field, and he draped his arm around Rose’s shoulders as he explained the rules of baseball to her.

The game was fairly straightforward, with no tricky calls he had to break down for her. There was a ton of action in the first few innings, with both team getting a few home runs, including a grand slam by one of the Phillies’ stars. The stadium erupted with cheers and the LED Liberty Bell began to ring as the Phillie trotted his way around the bases. Rose appeared to be caught up in the atmosphere, jumping and cheering along with the crowd.

It was fun, James thought, to be sharing this with Rose. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for other discounted ticket specials, even if it wasn’t for the Phillies. A minor league team was based close to the university, and he imagined he could get tickets fairly cheaply, if it would be something Rose was interested in.

During one of the inning breaks, Rose had turned to him, flushed and beaming. She looked breathtaking, with the lights from the stadium glowing behind her and casting her hair in a golden halo around her head. He felt his mouth go dry and his heart kick up a notch.

Rose frowned at him. “What? You all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I…” He swallowed thickly, then smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red and a shy smile crossed her face. He reached over to brush a stray wisp of hair from her face, but then kept his hand on her cheek. “Love you.”

They moved at the same time, leaning closer until their noses brushed, then their lips pressed together. The noises of the stadium disappeared, lost in the heavy pounding of his heart as he kissed Rose. Her mouth was warm and soft, though felt a little funny with the slightly waxy texture of her lipstick.

He had meant for it to be a quick little kiss, though he should have known better; how often was he able to give Rose only one kiss? Angling his head slightly to the side, James lost himself in her, in the warmth of her hands. One of them was on the nape of his neck, the other at his waist, clinging to his sweatshirt as he devoured her lips. His tongue swept along hers, then trailed across the roof of her mouth. He delighted in her full-body shiver.

Before he could do it again, there was an explosion of noise around them.

“Hey, you’re not making a porno here!”

James wrenched away from Rose, blinking dazedly at the person who had interrupted them. It was one of their fellow students. He nudged James’s shoulder, then pointed towards the giant screen above left-center field.

His own dazed face looked back at him.

_Kiss Cam_. Oh, dear…

He grinned sheepishly at the camera, then pecked a chaste kiss to Rose’s temple. She looked equally abashed. Blessedly, the camera panned away from them, though the crowd of university students around them continued jeering and teasing.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmured to Rose.

“S’not your fault. I wasn’t exactly beating you off of me.” He snorted and kissed her cheek. “You’ve got lipstick on you.”

James licked his swollen, tingling lips. A moment later, Rose cradled his jaw in her palm and rubbed a damp napkin across his mouth. It came away stained red. Her own mouth was smudged with lipstick, and he helped her clear it off, too.

“You are too enticing,” he concluded when they were lipstick free. “How am I supposed to restrain myself from kissing you?”

“Maybe you shouldn't,” Rose drawled, and she leaned up to plant a hard kiss to his mouth again.

Of course, the Kiss Cam found them once again, to the delight of the stadium, and to their fellow students, who didn’t let them live it down for the rest of the night.

The last few innings passed without much excitement and ended with the Phillies winning seven to four over the Miami Marlins. They were exhausted as they traipsed to the charter bus that would take them back to the school.

It was just after eleven o’clock when the bus returned to campus, and almost midnight by the time James pulled up in front of Rose’s flat. For once, he was staying overnight with her, per her request. The climb up to her fifth-floor flat was exhausting, and James wanted to curl up with Rose and go directly to sleep.

“What time is it?” Rose muttered to herself when she unlocked her front door and stepped into her dark flat. She flipped on the lights and glanced in the direction of the stove; _11:42_ glowed green from the digital display. “Ooof, gotta wee. Stay here!”

She sprinted down the hall and slammed the bathroom door behind her. James was left laughing and shaking his head at her.

He set his keys and wallet down on the kitchen table, but as he was about to toe off his shoes, an open, hand-written letter caught his eye. He didn’t mean to snoop, but his eyes and brain worked independently of each other and before he knew it, he’d glanced at the end of the letter, where the name _Jimmy_ was printed in a messy scribble.

His ears rang hollowly and his head swam. _Jimmy_. Jimmy? As in, Jimmy Stone? Jimmy Stone, Rose’s wanker of an ex-boyfriend?

A righteous anger welled up in James; what the _hell_ did Jimmy want with Rose? And how dare he contact her out of the blue after all this time.

Before he was entirely aware of his actions, James plucked up the piece of paper, eyes frantically scanning across the words.

_Rosie,_

_I’ve started this letter half a dozen times now, and I’m no closer to knowing how to say exactly what I want to say. It seems surreal that we’ve been talking again. I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea. It’s like I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t know was lost. I’m not complete without you, and I hate the person I am without you._

_This past month has been the happiest of my life because I’ve been able to talk to you again. I am thankful that you let me apologize, because there is nothing more I’ve wanted to do for the last six months. Getting sober has made me realize a lot of things, but it especially showed me that I missed you and that I want you. The worst mistake I ever made was how I treated you, and I will spend the rest of my life hating myself for it. I will spend the rest of my life (our life?) making it up to you._

_I love you, Rosie. I love you so fucking much. You make me feel like I can do anything, and I love how I feel when I’m with you. We were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m such an idiot for destroying the perfect, wonderful life we had made together. I think I was scared. I was scared of not being able to support the both of us with my music, and I was scared about how much I needed you. You were a comfort to me, something I knew would always be there for me, something reliable, and it was scary for me to need anything that much. But I’m not scared anymore, and I know I can make it work this time. As you said, we were young, stupid kids and we made young, stupid mistakes. Now we can start fresh and build something even better than before._

_I know you’re at school in America (which I always knew you could do! I always knew you were smart enough for school, despite what you said about yourself). I’m happy you’re enjoying your time in America. I want you to enjoy your time there, while you can. I’ll be here waiting for you when you come home. I’ll wait forever for you because you’re worth it. You’re so worth it, Rosie. I would wait a thousand years for you if I needed to. I hope I don’t have to though._

_This time we can work harder together to make us work. I know you might not be ready to trust me yet, but I promise I will show you how serious I am. How committed I am. I will do whatever it takes to make this work between us, because I hate the thought of my life without you in it._

_In the meantime, texting you will hold me over. I cherish every day, every moment that I can talk to you._

_All my love,_

_Jimmy_

James could barely think, could barely breathe. Something was squeezing his chest tighter and tighter until he thought he might suffocate as he read and reread the words of the letter. The _love_ letter. The love letter that Rose’s ex-boyfriend wrote to her after a month— _a month_?!—of them having texted back and forth.

Acid churned in the pit of his stomach, eating away at his guts and making him certain he was about to vomit all over Rose’s floor. And worst of all, his chest was collapsing in on itself and his heart was breaking into more pieces than he thought possible. An entire month, Rose had been texting her ex-boyfriend—the ex-boyfriend she had supposedly written off and hadn’t deigned to contact in three and a half years.

And she hadn’t told him. A month, and she hadn’t said a single word.

His pulse thundered in his ringing ears so loudly that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until the sheet of paper was abruptly yanked out of his hands.

oOoOo

It was a relief to empty her bladder after holding it for most of the trip home. She had been tempted to use the toilets at the stadium, but the lines had been impossibly long.

With that need dealt with, Rose washed her hands and then her face. She felt greasy and grimy, and would have preferred to get a shower, but she only had a couple minutes before midnight, and she could _finally_ tell James it was her birthday. She deserved a damn medal for not spilling the beans early—though there had been a few close calls—but she couldn’t deny it had been fun to play with James all month. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to simply look at her identification card, where her birthday was plainly printed in bold. But that was her James, wasn’t it? The smartest idiot in the room.

She rushed to brush her teeth and comb out her hair before she left the bathroom and skipped to her kitchen/dining/living room.

James stood by the kitchen table, a sheet of paper in his hands and a stricken expression on his pale face.

_Oh. Oh, no…_ Her stomach dropped. He was reading the disgusting letter that had arrived from Jimmy out of the blue yesterday afternoon.

She didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed, considering the content of the letter James was reading, or angry that he had snooped through her things and read her mail. The former won, but fueled the latter.

Rushing up to him, Rose yanked the letter harshly out of his fingers. He flinched as though she had struck him.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, folding up the paper and setting it on the kitchen table beneath one of her class notebooks.

“What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing? You’ve been chatting with your ex-boyfriend for an entire month?!” 

There was an awful combination of accusation and hurt in his voice that simultaneously grated against her nerves and broke her heart. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to find out about Jimmy like this. He wasn’t supposed to read that letter until she had explained the past couple weeks to him.

No, not merely a couple weeks. A month. It had been an entire month (and a little extra) since Jimmy first contacted her, and Rose hadn’t said a single word about it to James. _Shit_.

“I was going to tell you,” she said weakly. “I just…”

“Just hid it from me by accident, did you?” he said, condescension dripping from his every word.

Rose clenched her fists and her jaw before coldly replying, “I didn’t realize I needed your _permission_ to talk to anybody, or that I needed to tell you about every person I talk to. Sorry, d’you want to know about the bloke I chatted to while I was waiting for you in the library today? Wanna know about the girl I met at work ‘cos she’d recently broken up with her girlfriend and needed to talk to someone? Wanna know about…”

She knew she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t make herself stop until James interrupted her.

“Of course you don’t need to tell me about everyone you talk to.” Two pink stains spread across his cheeks. “But I would have hoped you would have _trusted me_ enough to tell me when your ex-boyfriend, the ex-boyfriend you claimed to despise, contacts you!”

Rose crossed her arms in front of herself, gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt so tightly that her fingertips began to ache. “This isn’t about trust, James.”

“No? Well, it sure seems like it is. Because you don’t actually trust me, do you? Not nearly to the extent that I trust you. I’ve shared everything with you, Rose. _Everything_! I told you about the worst night of my life. How it _still_ haunts me and gives me nightmares like I’m a child again rather than a grown man. But you…”

He flapped his arms wildly before letting them fall limply to his sides, clearly out of words. But he didn’t need any more words; the ones he’d hurled at her hit their mark, cracking her heart wide open. He didn’t think she trusted him?

Suddenly wanting him to hurt as much as she did, she met his eye and said, “I didn’t make you share any of that with me. You did that on your own. You opening up to me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same to you.”

It happened almost in slow motion, the way his face crumpled. The way his chin wobbled and his lips parted slightly with a soft, nearly inaudible, “Oh.” The way a crinkle formed between his brows, and beneath them, his eyes grew shiny with moisture. 

_Shit_. _Shit shit shit_!

“James, I…” _I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that…_

His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, then his face smoothed into a mask of a person she didn’t recognize. Even before they became friends, when he was the random cute bloke sitting in front of her in their chemistry class, he exuded more warmth than he did right now.

“How silly of me to expect some level of reciprocity in this relationship,” he said coolly.

“I didn’t mean that, James,” she muttered, wringing her hands in front of herself. “Really. I didn’t. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you the whole thing. I was going to tell you all about it, I swear.”

He barked out a laugh, and it was one of the worst noises she’d ever heard. “Oh, yeah? When were you gonna drop that one? When we’re old and gray in rocking chairs in a nursing home? ‘Darling, remember when we were first dating? Remember that horrible ex-boyfriend I had? He texted me—ha! Remember when texting was all the rage?’ Exactly _when_ were you planning to tell me?”

Any sympathy she had for him had evaporated and her rage returned with a vengeance. 

“Obviously if you’re acting like this, I was right to not tell you! Why are you being so unreasonable?”

“Unreasonable? _Unreasonable?!_ My girlfriend has been texting the bloke she _used to be in love with_ , and _I’m_ being unreasonable?”

“Yes, you are! So what if I was texting him? What does it matter _who_ I text on my _own bloody phone_?”

“You’re missing the entire bloody point!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I’m not angry that you’re texting him…”

“Clearly,” she grumbled, grinding her teeth together.

“…I’m angry that you felt the need to keep it a secret,” he continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “And I’m upset because _why_ did you keep it a secret? And what on earth could you two have been talking about if he sent you this… this…” James flapped his hands uselessly to the table and the notebook under which Jimmy’s letter sat. “...this _love letter_?! For all I bloody know, you could be wanting to get back together with him and…”

“No, don’t you dare,” Rose hissed, voice trembling. Tears of fury and heartbreak burned behind her eyes, blurring her vision. “Don’t you _fucking dare_ accuse me of that. After everything I told you about Jimmy—and don’t tell me I haven’t told you anything. Just because you seem to have selective memory doesn't mean I never told you about his drinking and partying, and how he stopped paying his half of the bills, and how he manipulated me to always feel badly about myself. After everything I told you, how could you even _think_ I would want to go back to him?”

A flash of guilt appeared in James’s eyes. He blinked and lowered his gaze, staying silent.

“Even if he hadn’t treated me like shit, how could you take away everything you and I have done together? Everything we’ve built together? How could you think I would leave us behind for someone I fell out of love with years ago?” She sniffled as her tears finally fell, streaking down her cheeks in hot, wet rivulets of grief and misery. “Do you think that little of me? That I would willingly go back to a relationship like that when what we have is so wonderful? Do you think so little of _us_?”

James scrubbed his fingers through his hair, making a tousled mess of the limp and somewhat greasy strands; they were in dire need of a wash.

“No. No, of course I don’t…”

“You just said so,” she argued, impatiently wiping her face dry. “You just _said_ …”

“I didn’t really mean it. But you have to understand… relationships are so new to me. You’re the longest relationship I’ve ever been in, and we’ve only been dating for four months. Christ, teenagers in school manage to have longer relationships than this. How pathetic am I for being so _illiterate_ when it comes to love and romance? I barely know what I’m doing half the time, and God knows if I’ve been mucking this all up but you’re too nice to tell me…”

Rose’s head was spinning as her heart fought to beat its way out of her chest. She’d heard this before… she’d heard this all far too many times.

_I didn’t mean it; I just drank too much…_

_You’re remembering wrong, I didn’t say it like that…_

_You’re being ridiculous. Calm down and maybe we can talk like normal people…_

_I was so drunk I don’t remember doing that…_

_I’m the worst piece of shit, Rosie, and I’m sorry, please forgive me…_

She shook her head as though she could physically shake Jimmy’s voice out of her ears. Instead, she tried to focus on James’s words rather than map them on top of Jimmy’s.

“This is me telling you now that you are _mucking this up_ …”

But James continued on as though she hadn’t spoken. And with how dry her mouth had become, she wasn’t sure if her words had been audible.

“...And you could be wanting to be in a relationship with someone who’s got a bloody clue as to what they’re doing. Why wouldn’t you prefer to be in a relationship with someone else…?”

“Because I love _you_ , you stupid fucking arsehole!” Rose yelled, which caught his attention. He met her eyes and blinked slowly, as though confused. As though she were revealing a secret he’d never been privy to. “Yes, I love you, but you _knew_ this! At least, I thought you did. I love you so much but you are breaking my heart, James. Haven’t you believed me these last four months?”

His mouth worked wordlessly for a few long and agonizing seconds.

“I… yeah.” His tone suggested otherwise, though, and she nearly began crying with frustration. All this time… all these months… Had none of it been real? Had he been pretending this whole time?

“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until bright lights burst behind her closed lids. “Thanks a lot, James.”

“I just…” He groaned, sounding as miserable as she felt. _Good_. “I’m so bloody new at this! I’m making it all up as I go and I’m worried I haven’t been doing a good job. I get nervous that one day you’re going to wake up and realize how rubbish I am at this. That you’ll get sick of holding my hand through all of this as I learn. I’m terrified you’re going to decide you’re done wasting your time with me, because you’re _wonderful_ , and you deserve the best and I…”

“Stop!” Rose cried, a sob stealing the air from her lungs. “I don’t want to hear this. You have just… broken _everything_ we’ve been building, James.” She hiccupped on another sob and impatiently sucked in a lungful of air. “We were supposed to be _partners_ … I _wanted_ us to be partners… I _thought_ we were partners. We were supposed to be equals in this relationship. I don’t want you to put me up on a bloody pedestal, or for you to talk down about yourself or make excuses for yourself. I don’t want there to be this… this _inequality_ between us for the rest of our lives. But if that’s always how it’s gonna be… if that’s how you’re always going to see us, as you being somehow _lesser_ than me…” The force of her tears made her entire body shake. It felt like someone had blown a hole through her chest; she couldn’t breathe. “…then I don’t think we can make this work.”

The tears that had been threatening in James’s eyes fell down his pale cheeks. “What? Rose…?”

She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to calm down. But how could she be calm when it felt like the world was spinning too fast? James had been her tether, her anchor, keeping her grounded to the surface. But he’d let go, or maybe she had, and now she was crashing alone through the void. Lost. Adrift.

“You… are you breaking up with me?” His voice was so hoarse that she could hardly hear it. Though that might have been because her pulse was thudding in her ears instead.

Was she breaking up with him?

“I don’t… no… yes? I don’t know. I don’t want to. God, I don’t want to.” She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. And right now, that really bloody scares me. I fought _so hard_ , put up with _so much_ , to make things with Jimmy work when I should have called it quits long before it all ended. And I didn’t love him nearly as much as I love you. I’m terrified about what I’ll let happen… what I’ll excuse… I can’t do that again, James. I _won’t_ do that again.”

He reached out for her, but she couldn’t let him touch her. She couldn’t feel his fingers on any part of her body. Not right now. 

She raised her hands in front of herself and retreated a pace, nearly tripping over her shoes from where she’d kicked them off at the door.

_The door_.

With trembling fingers, Rose undid the deadbolt. “I- I want you to leave now.”

“No, wait,” he pleaded, raw urgency in his voice. But he didn’t come any closer to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean anything… I didn’t mean… I didn’t… Please…” 

She’d never heard James, her eloquent, loquacious James, struggle this much for words. His eyes grew wild the longer he went without managing a sentence.

“ _Please_ ,” he repeated, frantic. “Please, Rose. Don’t do this.”

She drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. It was late, and she was _so bloody exhausted_. She didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore, but she knew it was far from over.

“I need a break,” she said wearily. “I’m tired, James. I’m so tired.”

“We can’t leave it like this,” he rasped through a stifled sob. “Please.”

Rose met his gaze. Everything was written on his face, his grief and terror and heartbreak. He looked impossibly young.

“We’re taking a break for the night,” she repeated. She paused for a beat, then, scrambling for some sort of comic relief, quipped, “Not Ross and Rachel’s version of a break, mind. A time out, more like.”

James either didn’t process the joke or didn’t find it funny, because he was still staring at her with that stricken expression that made her want to wrap him in her arms and apologize for everything that had been said that night.

But she couldn’t make herself move.

“I love you, Rose,” he whispered.

“I know.” _That’s why this is so damn painful._ “I love you too.” _Maybe too much._

Rose had always thought of their love as a fire. A soft, cozy fire, and together they basked in its light and warmth. But maybe they’d gotten too comfortable, gotten too confident, gotten too close; now they were burning, and oh, God, did it hurt.

“Goodnight James,” she murmured, opening the door for him.

He numbly walked towards it, completely forgetting about his phone, keys, and wallet on her table until she went and picked them up. His hands were cold and sweating as she handed him his things.

“Drive safe,” she said. “Text me when you make it home.”

He made a wordless noise she thought was assent, then he was gone, walking silently down the many flights of steps they’d cheerfully bounded up mere moments earlier.

God, how long had it even been? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed. Rose glanced at the clock. _11:58_. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen horrible, heartbreaking minutes was all it had taken for Rose’s world to come crashing down around her feet.

She went to her window and peered down at the dark street, waiting. Half a minute later, James stepped out from beneath the front porch of her building and ambled slowly to his car. He moved as though through treacle, as though he were tugging an invisible weight behind himself.

She continued watching him, but James simply sat there in his car in the dark. The clock switched over to 12:00, ringing in April twenty-seventh. She’d planned to kiss him at midnight, as though it were New Year’s Eve, and tell him that he could finally wish her a Happy Birthday.

All of a sudden, her game of keeping her birthday a secret wasn’t fun anymore, and twenty-two didn’t look as optimistic as it had been.

The distant purr of an engine drew her attention to the street below. James had started his car and was pulling away from the curb, taking off down the empty street.

Rose fully gave in to the sorrow she had been fighting back for the past quarter of an hour. Sinking down onto her couch, she bent double over her knees and sobbed, grieving for all that had shattered that night, and for the unanswerable question of whether broken things could be ever mended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! In my original outline for this story, this scene was supposed to happen all the way back in chapter 10-ish, I think. But then my muse went wild and added a buuuuunch of in-between moments. Even these last few chapters weren't supposed to be as long as they were. I'm so excited to finally share this chapter with you, as I'm very pleased with how it turned out, and I really hope you liked it💜


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to wrap his mind around the aftermath of his fight with Rose. And starts a home makeover project in the meantime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't quite expecting the level of emotion from y'all last chapter, but I'm very happy that my writing was able to break your hearts as thoroughly as I broke James and Rose's 😂 It means I did my job well, I guess 😂
> 
> Chapter Length: ~6900 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen

James was shaking. It was like he hadn’t eaten in too long and his blood sugar dropped too low and his body started rebelling against him until he gave it nourishment.

Only this was worse. Much, much worse. He was dizzy and nauseated and crippled with grief.

How had the night gone so wrong? They’d been having fun at the Phillies game, hadn’t they? They’d been laughing and lighthearted, and were so exhausted that they’d been a few minutes away from collapsing into bed together.

Then he’d gone and snooped through Rose’s mail. He should have ignored the letter. He should have asked her what it was, and asked why Jimmy had contacted her.

 _Would she have told the truth_?

He hated that he had to ask that question, and he hated even more that he didn’t have a definitive answer.

His body moved on autopilot down the many flights of stairs of Rose’s building, not entirely aware of his surroundings. It was a miracle he didn’t trip down the steps and break his neck, considering he couldn’t quite feel his feet. He couldn’t feel much of anything apart from the heavy, aching pressure in his chest and the acid roiling in his gut.

James slipped into his dark car, which was still warm from the drive to her flat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Rose, holding Rose, snuggling Rose in bed as they drifted to sleep.

Instead, here he was. About to drive home. Alone.

A break. Rose wanted a break. Because he had been such an insensitive arsehole.

 _But so was she_.

Every insecurity he’d shared with Rose, every heartbreaking moment of the aftermath of his parents’ death… had Rose not wanted to hear about any of them? He felt stupid— _so stupid_ —for baring so much of his soul to her without realizing she wasn’t reciprocating. How had he ever thought the nuggets of information she’d dropped for him constituted reciprocity? She had put in the bare minimum of emotional effort, giving him _just enough_ that their communication felt like a two-way street. Did she know what she was doing? Had this been her plan all along? Get him comfortable and familiar with her so he would fall utterly in love with her? So he would have sex with her? Was that all she had been after this whole time? Had she taken advantage of his inexperience and banked on him not realizing she wasn’t putting in as much effort as he was? 

His shoulders shook as he wept into his hands, those ugly, nasty thoughts eating away at his mind until he couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to believe that about Rose. These last four months with her had been nothing short of bliss. He’d never connected with anyone as much as he had with Rose. He was desperate to believe that what they’d had was _real_. It _had_ to be real. It hurt too much for it all to have been nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark before his tears stopped enough for him to turn his car on. The engine growled to life, and the time _12:03_ flashed blue in his eyes. Had it only been twenty minutes since he had first pulled up to Rose’s flat? How had twenty minutes completely destroyed the last seven months of their friendship and relationship?

His vision blurred again with fresh tears, but he impatiently rubbed them away to put his car in gear and drive off down the deserted street.

It probably should have bothered him that he didn’t remember driving. Anything could have happened. He could have run every single stop light, could have hit anything or anyone. But he was suddenly home, pulling into his dark driveway sometime later. His house was equally dark. He hadn’t left any lights on because he hadn’t expected to come back here tonight.

The house was dead silent. Not even his cats could deign to greet him. He toed off his shoes by the front door then plopped his keys and wallet into the dish on the cabinet beside it.

“Pip?” he croaked, voice raspy from all the tears he’d shed. “Merry? Gollum?”

There was a tiny chirp from the living room—Pippin and Merry were curled together on the sofa. James frowned. They usually slept in his bed, even on the nights he didn’t come home. He stepped over to them and gave them each a few chin scritches, but they were too drowsy to do much other than purr lightly.

“Where’s Gollum, eh?” he asked them, glancing around the living room. The Siamese wasn’t in the cat tree, or anywhere in sight. After the night he’d had, it _would_ be his luck if Gollum had crawled off somewhere and died.

Whatever. He would look for him in the morning. James wanted nothing more than to strip down to his pants, fall into bed, and not wake up for a few days.

However, those plans were instantly scrapped when he stepped into his bedroom and was greeted with the pungent, acrid odor of ammonia. A huge, reeking damp spot sat in the middle of his bed.

“God-fucking- _dammit_!” he shouted, kicking his bed frame. 

He cried out and hopped on one foot as his toes _burned_ in agony. His anger surged. Anger at himself, for jumping to conclusions and making too many accusations; anger at Rose, for keeping all of her secrets; anger at Jimmy, for everything he’d done to Rose; anger at his cat, for weeing on his bed when all he wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a very long time.

James sank onto the edge of his bed—far away from the urine stain—his tears starting up again in earnest. He wanted _Rose_ , and he hated that he wanted her. She had broken his heart more thoroughly than anyone ever had before, yet he still loved her. God, did he love her. 

Was that wrong of him though? Was it unhealthy that he wanted her, wanted to make up with her, after everything they’d said that night? Could they even make up from something like this?

He hoped they could. He hoped they could find some sort of middle ground. What that middle ground looked like, he didn’t know; his brain was too foggy with exhaustion and grief to think about possible resolutions and compromises they could make.

Something vibrated against his thigh. Sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his running nose, James fished his mobile out of his pocket. A new message from Rose.

_Did you make it home okay?_

He wanted to reply, “What do you care?” but curbed the impulse. That wasn’t fair. If she’d had to drive home at midnight after the argument they’d just had, he would want to know she was safe.

“Yeah,” was all he sent.

 _Okay. Glad to hear it. Sleep well James_.

“Fat fucking chance,” he muttered to his phone, and instead typed out, “Yeah. You too.”

He set his phone face-down on the mattress beside him and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. A throbbing headache was beginning behind his brow. He would love nothing more than to sleep soundly and dreamlessly, but knew that his brain wouldn’t shut down enough for him to get any restful sleep.

Besides, it’s not like his bed was in any sort of state to be slept in.

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet and tucked his phone into his pocket. He ripped off all the layers of his bedding, cursing when he saw they were soaked down to the mattress cover. Had Gollum held his bladder all goddamn day so he could piss right through everything?

He carried the stinking pile of sheets and blankets to his laundry room and settled in for a long night of washing. He stuffed the duvet into his washer—glad this home used to belong to a single mother of three who had invested in a giant washing machine, and left it behind when she’d moved out—and dumped in two detergent pods before programming a long, hot wash cycle. He then took the rest of his blankets to his kitchen sink.

The sight of two days’ worth of dirty dishes made him want to throw them all against a wall—broken dishes didn’t need to be cleaned. However, the _mess_ of broken dishes would be more taxing. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out noisily as he dropped his sheets onto the floor and loaded everything into the dishwasher.

When the sink was empty, he grabbed his blankets and gave them all an individual rinse to hopefully keep the cat urine stain from setting.

It took nearly two dryer cycles for his duvet to be completely dry, and then another two loads of laundry before the rest of his blankets and sheets were clean. To his relief, all traces of cat urine odor were gone.

It was the dead of night by the time he made his bed; if he fell asleep _right now_ , he would get at least four hours in before he would have to get up for classes. Was it worth it to try to sleep? He was keyed up from his middle of the night laundry session and his brain was still too loud. Maybe he should give up on the notion of sleep and try to take a nap after classes. Though would it even be productive if he attended classes?

James flopped onto his back on the fresh duvet, breathing in the scent of clean laundry. He would have to revoke the cats’ bedroom privileges until they—Gollum—proved they could be trusted not to wee on everything.

He sat bolt upright. He hadn’t thought to check the guest bedroom. Grumbling to himself and crossing his fingers, he jogged down the hall, and cursed vehemently under his breath when he smelled cat urine.

_What the hell? Should’ve left the stupid arsehole to drown._

Well. He was already awake. In for a penny, and all. Stripping that bed as well, he began the same laundry routine. While that duvet was in the wash, James indulged in a quick shower. The sweat and grime of the previous day coupled with crying his eyes out intermittently for the past few hours made him feel filthy. 

The shower didn’t relax him as much as he’d hoped, not when the evidence of Rose was all around him. He hadn’t realized how completely she had insinuated herself into his home, into his life. Her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat right beside his, her bottles of pink and yellow keeping company with his blue and red ones.

Firmly ignoring her products, James rushed through his shower, lathering his hair and body in record time. But when he went to his pajama drawer, he was yet again reminded of Rose when he saw a set of her pjs in the drawer too. He couldn’t help but touch them, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips as his brain reminded him of all the times he’d pushed her top off before they made love.

His stomach ached with longing. Hurriedly shutting the drawer, James instead moved to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. Rose’s knickers sat in a small pile in that drawer too. Growling in frustration, he grabbed a pair of pants at random and slipped them on before bending to root through his t-shirt drawer. Unsurprisingly, he found several of Rose’s shirts mixed in with his.

How had he not realized how much of Rose existed in his house? How had he not realized that her light and beauty shone through his home, and that she had made it her home too?

 _Because I loved it_. 

And he had. He had loved living with Rose, and had been counting down the days when she would officially move out of her flat and into his house.

His tears nearly started up again when he realized that he may never share a home with Rose if they couldn’t find a way to work through all that had been said. No more sleepy mornings spent giggling and kissing in bed. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen just because they felt like being silly. No more late-night chats that sometimes carried them into the wee hours of the mornings. No more exploring every beautiful inch of her body and losing himself in her love and pleasure.

He didn’t particularly care about the prospect of no more sex. Brilliant though it was, he found himself more devastated by the loss of Rose’s friendship than the loss of her body. He had fallen in love with _her_ , and the thought of her not being in his life anymore was agonizing. They’d known each other for seven months, and she had somehow become a constant in his life, an unmovable force that he’d been confident would never be gone.

The unknown was killing him. The uncertainty of whether he and Rose would be able to make up. If they did manage to reconcile, to forgive and heal, would their relationship look the same as it did before?

A distant chime from down the hall told him the wash cycle was finished. Sniffling, James pulled on a soft, worn t-shirt and padded down the hall to continue his laundry. When the duvet was in the dryer and the sheets were in the washer, James started searching for Gollum. As irritated as he was with his cat, he was also concerned; apart from the first week James had brought Gollum home, the feline had never had litter box issues.

Drifting from room to room, James finally found Gollum in the basement—which also doubled as an office space—lying on the desk chair.

“What’s gotten into you, you little menace?” he asked, crouching beside the cat. Gollum didn’t react, making James’s heart lurch. “Gollum?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the cat’s side. Gollum let out a noise between a chirp and a growl.

“Thought you were dead for a minute. What on Earth is your problem, buddy? Are you not feeling well? Is the litter box not clean enough for you? Are you trying to make my shitty day even more shitty?” James sighed, and stroked the top of Gollum’s head. “I’ll call the vet when they open. In the meantime, try not to wee on anything else, yeah?”

Gollum huffed out a breath, then closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The rest of the night passed listlessly for James. When he wasn’t switching over laundry, he worked on cleaning his house from top to bottom. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from Rose, because otherwise all he could think about was the way he’d raised his voice and talked over her, the way he’d suggested she wasn’t as invested in their relationship as he was, the way she’d sobbed and hugged herself and flinched away from him. And all of that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the distant horizon by the time he’d finished. His house was immaculate. There was not a scrap of unclean fabric anywhere, what with him moving on to washing his clothes and the various towels and blankets strewn around his home.

His eyes burned with exhaustion, and he thought he might be able to get some sleep. He preemptively filled his cats’ food dishes so that they wouldn’t barge into his room in an hour to demand breakfast, then he went into his bedroom and crawled beneath his sheets. Before settling in to try to sleep, he shot off a series of short emails to his various professors, letting them know he wouldn’t be in class that day, and he would arrange with some of his classmates to get their notes. That task finished, James silenced his phone and set it on the nightstand, then tugged his sheets up to his ears.

He hadn’t realized that his bed had begun to smell like Rose until he was surrounded by the aroma of laundry detergent rather than her soft, warm, homey scent. With an intensity that stole his breath away, he was aware of how much he missed Rose. Missing her hurt almost as much as their fight did, because despite everything that had happened, he remained desperately in love with her. He knew that he would do just about anything to try to make things right with Rose, if she would let him. He hoped she would.

That train of thought kept him from getting much sleep. His mind kept replaying their argument over and over again, and it kept coming up with new rebuttals and explanations he wished he could have said instead of losing his temper.

It was ten o’clock by the time James gave up on the idea of getting any more rest. He felt worse now than he had when he’d collapsed into bed four hours ago. Bleary-eyed, James stumbled to the kitchen to begin a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he went to check on Gollum. His food dish beneath his cat tree was full, and the cat himself had barely moved from his position on the office chair.

“All right, bud. Vet time,” James murmured, stroking Gollum’s forehead and cheeks.

He went back upstairs for his phone, and placed a call to the veterinarian’s office. There were no available in-person appointments, but they told James he could drop the cat off with them and they would take some blood and urine samples from Gollum throughout the course of the day. 

James didn’t feel particularly good about dropping his sick cat off and leaving him alone, but the alternative was waiting a few days for an open appointment. He thanked the vet tech and said he would be by with his cat within the hour.

With a sigh, James pulled on some clothes, poured coffee into a travel thermos, and managed to get Gollum into his carrier with minimal fuss. Gollum loathed being in a car carrier, and often yowled and growled for the entire duration until he was set free again; the fact that he remained utterly silent and unmoving was testament to the fact he felt poorly.

The drive to the vet’s clinic was unremarkable, as was the transfer of his cat into their care. He confirmed his contact information, and thanked them for being able to take Gollum so quickly.

Since he was already out and about, James stopped by a nearby Walmart for his monthly supply run. He hadn’t thought to bring a list along on what he had assumed would be a quick stop at the vet’s, so he tried his best to remember everything he needed.

He was about to head to the front registers when a display of vibrant colors caught his eye. Paint swatches.

 _Hmm. Been meaning to repaint my bedroom_.

Pulling his shopping cart to the side, James grabbed a booklet and began leafing through for some palette ideas. Currently, his walls were boring off-white, which hadn’t really bothered him before. He always assumed he would eventually get around to repainting, but after nearly two years of living there, everything was the same as when he’d moved in.

 _No time like the present_.

He spent the next half hour poring over paint colors and mentally mapping the colors onto his bedroom walls. He frequently found himself wondering whether Rose would like a certain color, before he shut down that train of thought; it always came back, though. For the past several months, Rose was never more than half a thought away. Despite their current situation, that was a hard habit to break.

In the end, he decided on an eggshell-finish steel blue color that could have passed for gray. A nice, cool, neutral shade (and, despite his best efforts, he was sure Rose would like it too). He added a soft white for his ceiling and a sharp white glossy paint to his order to touch up the trim and crown molding. With his new paint cans in tow, he moved to the next aisle for paint rollers and brushes, protective cloth canvas, tape, a paint tray, and any other painting accoutrements he could find.

On his way home, he stopped by a fast-food drive-thru for a burger and an order of fries. His cholesterol was probably not pleased with him, considering he’d eaten a cheesesteak and fries for dinner the night before, but he ultimately decided to hell with his cholesterol. 

It was noontime when he finished his lunch, and he hopped right in with his painting project. It took him an hour to move all of his furniture to the middle of the room, and to unhang the various decorations on his walls. Not sure how long the painting would take, James shifted his entire dresser into his spare bedroom, where he figured he would sleep for the next night or two until the project was finished.

The soothing, repetitive movements of painting were cathartic, which is more than James could have hoped for. It took a fair amount of concentration, especially to make sure he didn’t drip paint where it didn’t belong. He enjoyed cutting in the corners and edges of his walls using one of the small brushes he’d bought, but he didn’t like using the broad paint roller to cover large areas. That was an easy and mindless task, which meant his brain could go back to Rose. And that was definitely _not_ where he wanted his brain to go.

How much longer would his memory replay their fight for him? How long would it take before he stopped thinking about everything he could have and should have said differently? And how long was this _break_ of theirs going to last?

Several times, he had been tempted to take photographs of his bedroom and send them to Rose. A tiny little olive branch, maybe. But no, that was stupid. That would look like he didn’t care about or didn’t want to address their fight.

He still took photos, though, wanting a before and after comparison for his own memories.

He was about to move on to the last wall of his bedroom when the vet called with an update on Gollum. When his phone had rung, his heart had jumped into his throat; he hadn’t been sure whether he was hoping or dreading to see Rose’s name. The crushing disappointment he felt gave him his answer. It took everything he had to not dismiss the call and instead phone Rose, desperate to speak with her and start mending whatever broke between them.

However, he had a duty to his cat, and so he accepted the vet’s call. Gollum, it turned out, had a rather severe urinary tract infection. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to start him on an aggressive antibacterial regimen, and to give him intravenous fluids because the cat was dangerously dehydrated.

The guilt nearly overwhelmed James. He hadn’t realized Gollum hadn’t been drinking or acting any differently; if the cat hadn’t wee’d on the beds, James wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. The vet tech, seeming to sense his distress, assured him that UTIs could frequently get overlooked, but that Gollum should make a full recovery.

“We anticipate you’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”

“Great, thanks,” James breathed. “Really. Thanks so much.”

The call reminded him it was time to feed his other cats. He had shut them away into the basement to keep them from wandering into his bedroom while he painted. As he walked down the hall, he could hear Pippin crying and scratching at the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he called through the door. “One minute, boys. One minute, then I’ll bring down your dindin.”

He grabbed the two empty food dishes in the kitchen, filled them with kibble, grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, and opened the basement door. Pippin bolted upstairs and sprinted directly to where his bowl usually sat. He froze when he saw it wasn’t there, and James couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Right here, bud,” James said, shaking the bowl. “C’mon. You’re dining in the basement tonight, and tomorrow. Until I’ve finished painting. I absolutely do not trust you to not brush up against the wet walls, and I don’t fancy washing paint off of you.”

James continued talking to his cats as he carefully walked down the steps, wary of Pippin and Merry who both were winding around his ankles. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect ending to the past twenty-four hours? His relationship with Rose had crashed and burned, then he went and broke his neck falling down the stairs.

Once the cats were happily eating their dinner, James returned to his bedroom and worked on finishing what he could. He worked diligently until nightfall, pleased with his progress and with how well the color looked. However, he was growing to realize that the warm brown wood of his dresser, nightstand, and bookcases didn’t match with the cooler tones of the room.

Well, he’d been planning to upgrade his furniture anyway from the inexpensive mishmash of pieces he’d found at second-hand shops. Figuring he was done for the night, James set up a rotating fan to help with air circulation then went into his bathroom for a shower. Paint flecks spattered his face, hair, and arms; it took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing before he was satisfied he’d washed it all off.

Once he was clean, dried, and dressed in pajamas, he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind himself so that he could release his cats from their basement prison. Not particularly hungry but figuring he ought to eat, he cut up an apple and scooped a dollop of peanut butter onto a plate, then took it and his laptop to his couch. Aching and exhausted, James simply sat on his sofa with his head tilted back and his eyes shut.

He nearly dozed off until Pippin clumsily jumped into his lap, almost upending James’s snack. 

“Shoo,” James grumbled, moving his cat to the sofa cushion beside him.

Pippin huffed, then walked in a circle half a dozen times before plopping right next to James’s thigh. Absently stroking his cat, James munched on his pitiful dinner and opened up his laptop to IKEA’s website.

He spent the next hour browsing new bedroom furniture. With the light, cool-toned walls, he thought dark furniture would pop rather nicely. He fell utterly in love with a curved, corner-unit bookcase, and with a long chest of drawers that could fit enough clothes for two people. He favorited both of those pieces of furniture as he wondered what to do with his current furniture. Some of it could be repurposed to other rooms in his house, but others, like his bed frame—if he decided to upgrade that as well—would have to be sold or donated.

The ring of his doorbell interrupted his mental reconfiguration of his home. He leapt to his feet and jogged to his front door, cautiously peering into the peephole to see who was visiting him so late at night. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man had his face pressed close to the door, as though he could look through the opposite end of the peephole.

James threw open the door. “Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man scanned his eyes up and down James’s body, taking in the pajamas and his damp, messy hair. A salacious grin crossed Jack’s face.

“Oops, I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

It took James a few seconds to realize what Jack meant. Then he wondered why Jack would think he and Rose had been in the middle of having sex. Eventually he remembered that nobody else was aware that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. Which made _him_ remember that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. His mood soured, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What do you want, Jack?”

Jack simply stared at him for a beat before saying, “It’s Thursday.”

James’s stomach sank. _Thursday… pub quiz night… shit_.

“We didn’t see you at Molly’s, and none of us had heard from you. I thought maybe you were busy with Rose, caught up in all sorts of delicious debauchery that I would _love_ to hear about. But you don’t exactly seem to be in a state of post-coital bliss, so…”

“What do you want, Jack?” James repeated, gritting his teeth. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body felt leaden and his head began to ache. The last thing he wanted to do was stand in his doorway and have this conversation with his friend/ex-boyfriend.

Jack scrutinized him so intently that James had to fight the urge to slam the door in Jack’s face.

“What’s up with you?” 

“None of your bloody business,” James snapped. “Look, it’s late. Sorry I missed trivia night. I’ll be there next week. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

In a move James was not anticipating, Jack stepped forward and into James, startling him into backing up a step. Before he knew it, they were inside his house, and Jack had shut the door behind him.

“What the hell Jack?” James exploded. “I’m not in the bloody mood for this. Get out.”

“Spill. What’s happened?” Jack asked. Before James could shout at him again, he turned his head down the hall, sniffing. “Are you getting your house repainted?”

“Jack!” James followed uselessly as Jack strode down the hall to his closed bedroom door.

The other man threw open the door and flicked on the lights, revealing the messy, freshly-painted bedroom.

“Yes, I’m repainting my bedroom. Congratulations on your deductive reasoning skills. Will you please leave now?”

“Is there a reason you’ve started repainting your room on a random Thursday? That sounds like more of a weekend project.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out shopping and saw paint swatches and had the urge to repaint my bedroom. So here we are.”

“Why were you out shopping and looking at paint swatches in the middle of a school day? Play hooky, did you? You know, whenever I blow off classes for the day, it’s usually because I’m having sex. Was Rose too busy? Or have you worn her out already?”

James’s cheeks burned, even as his chest crumpled in on itself. He had done his best to not think about Rose all afternoon, yet here was Jack, bringing her up every other sentence.

“Well, at least I can finally say I got you in the bedroom,” Jack said lightly, digging his elbow into James’s ribs.

James managed a weak, half-hearted snort. “Not quite how you expected it though, is it?”

“Admittedly, we were both a lot more naked,” Jack lamented. “I’ll let you save the nakedness for Rose. Speaking of, what does she think of your sudden home makeover?”

James’s stomach hollowed out, and he surprised himself by confessing, “Dunno. Haven’t told her.”

Jack went silent for the first time all night. James could feel his friend’s eyes on him, but he steadfastly inspected his walls, looking for any imperfections he would have to pay close attention to when he applied the second coat.

“James, what happened?”

Jack’s voice was so soft and so knowing that the backs of James’s eyes prickled. _Damn_. He thought he was done crying. James sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I think… I think Rose and I might be breaking up soon,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Jack simply blinked at him, his face expressionless. “Right. We’re gonna get some alcohol, then you are going to explain everything to me. Why do you think you and Rose are breaking up? You two are the epitome of soulmates, if such a thing exists.”

James snorted, remembering every hurtful thing he and Rose had said last night. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

Jack clapped him lightly on the back, before he encircled his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keeping his arm where it was, Jack guided James to the kitchen and plopped him into the chair that Rose usually sat in. James didn’t bother moving, and instead watched his friend go to the fridge and pull out a partially-drunk bottle of wine. He and Rose had opened that bottle last weekend. They’d snuggled on the sofa together and made a drinking game out of watching a cooking show together. Half way through the bottle, they’d gotten pleasantly tipsy and had stopped paying attention to the television in favor of making out.

Jack found the cabinet that contained the wine glasses and pulled down two of them. He sat at the table opposite of James, filled the glasses, and pushed one towards him. James gulped down half of it in one go.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” Jack said, topping off James’s wine glass.

The words poured out of him, from every heartbreaking thing Rose had told him, to everything he had said in return. Jack’s face remained impassive as James spoke, never once interrupting, even though James wasn’t sure he managed to capture all of the details as clearly as he would have preferred.

“I’ve ruined everything,” James concluded, polishing off the liquid in his glass before refilling it.

“No, you haven’t,” Jack said gently. “You buggered it up a little bit. But so did Rose. You brought up some valid points, James. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is honest and forthcoming. It isn’t a good balance for one person to constantly be sharing while the other remains a closed book. However, it’s not healthy to expect the same level of reciprocity from Rose as what you bring to the table. Especially when you haven’t been upfront with Rose about your expectations. And where you did bugger things up was with shooting yourself down so hard. Especially as a way to excuse what you’ve said, or assumptions you’ve made.”

“But… I genuinely feel like I’m at a complete and utter loss all the time,” James defended, ringing his fingertip around his wine glass. “It’s like… it’s like people innately know how to do this, this _romance_ thing, and I’m bumbling along like an idiot.”

“Were you insecure in your friendship with Rose? Before you began dating? Did you feel any of this last semester?”

James paused, considering. He’d always had some butterflies when he spent time with Rose last semester, but for the most part, he’d simply enjoyed being in her presence. That hadn’t changed at all, despite their new relationship status. She had remained his best friend, the person he always wanted to be around, and the person he wanted to share every piece of his life with.

“No,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into his eyes.

“Soooo… what’s the difference between being Rose’s friend versus being her boyfriend? I mean, I assume by now that you’re having sex? Apart from that, it’s not like anything really changed. Is the sex bad or something? Do you not like it?”

James felt his cheeks heating as his stomach twisted. Being intimate with Rose was one of the most special things he’d ever shared with someone. Not only did it feel _brilliant_ , better than he ever thought physical pleasure could be, but it was equally as emotionally satisfying. Being vulnerable with Rose hadn’t been terrifying or overwhelming, but rather comforting. There had been nobody he trusted more than Rose.

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s been… it’s been incredible. Everything with her has been incredible.”

“Has Rose given any indication that she has been dissatisfied with you in any way? Not even with the sex, but just…” Jack waved his hands around in the air. “…in general?”

_You’re everything I never thought I deserved to have._

Hot tears burned in his eyes then dripped down his cheeks. Every kiss she’d given him, every squeeze of her hand in his, every sleepy smile that spread across her face when she woke up and saw him… It all raced through his head, a testament to their love.

_What have I done?_

He pressed his palms into his eyes

“No,” he answered, his voice raw.

Jack sighed. “Oh, James.”

“I know!” He plonked his forehead down onto the table and curled his arms around his head, tugging on his hair until it hurt. “I fucked up, Jack.”

James heard the scraping of chair legs on the floor, then a warm body was pressed tightly into his own. Jack wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders, leaning into him in a sideways hug.

“Much like having sex,” Jack began, “having an argument takes more than one person. Most times, anyway. If either situation is being done by only one person, chances are they’re a wanker.”

James let out a weak laugh, even as his eyes and throat burned with more tears.

“Rose said some very hurtful things,” Jack said, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down James’s arm. “She needs to apologize and address those. But you accused her of some pretty terrible things, too. From what you’ve said, Rose’s relationship with this Jimmy guy was toxic, if not abusive. It’s _insulting_ for you to suggest she would want to go back into a relationship like that.”

James’s stomach ached. He had known for months that Rose’s relationship with Jimmy had been unhealthy, and that her heart had been badly broken. That should have been enough for him. Did he really need to know every single detail of her heartbreak?

No, he decided. No, he didn’t. However, he would have liked to have known that Jimmy had reached out to her. At the very least, James wanted to know why Rose hadn’t wanted to tell him Jimmy had contacted her.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted.

“At least you know you want to fix it,” Jack said, giving James a squeeze. “That’s a good start. It means you’ve determined that what you have with Rose is worth fighting for. But you need to take a long, hard look at what you want from this relationship, and more importantly, what you want from Rose. And you need to be receptive to what _she_ wants from you and your relationship. And you need to work on your own insecurities and stop projecting them onto Rose. That’s a shitty thing to do, James. _You_ have the insecurities, so it’s _your_ job to work through them. Stop making excuses for yourself, and stop projecting them onto Rose.”

“Not sugar coating this at all, are you?” James muttered, though he knew Jack’s advice was sound.

“Nope. I’ve let you mope for a half hour, but now you need to start making things right. And remember. You can only change yourself—you can’t change Rose. So decide what you’re willing to put up with, because she might never be as open as you want her to be. But also set some boundaries for yourself. A relationship is give and take, and lots of compromise. You can’t keep giving and giving and giving, or else you’re not going to have anything left.”

James cocked his head to the side and peeked up at Jack. “Do you have a degree in relationship counseling that I don’t know about?”

Jack laughed, and took his arm away from James’s shoulders to instead ruffle his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“But how do I start a conversation with Rose to tell her I want to fix things?” James asked.

Jack pursed his lips and tapped his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Have you considered anything like “Hi Rose, I really want to make up and then make out”?”

James snorted. “I’ll think of something else. Oh, and I might have some furniture coming tomorrow or Saturday. Wanna help me move stuff?”

Jack winked. “You know, I think I’m busy. Why don’t you see if Rose is free?”

“Subtle,” James drawled. He then sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Jack.”

“See, aren’t you glad I wasn’t put off by your less-than-warm welcome? If you want to practice your apology skills, I’ll take one.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we said goodbye,” James said, dragging his weary body up from the chair. He collected their empty wine glasses and set them in the sink.

“A piece of advice, don’t try that one with Rose. Maybe try a kiss or two. I’ll take one of those, if you’re offering.”

James rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his friend out of the kitchen. They’d only made it a few steps when the doorbell rang.

“Bit late for a social call, isn’t it?” Jack asked, frowning at James.

James gestured up and down the length of Jack’s body. “You can talk, showing up here at nine o’clock.”

“Touché. Late-night furniture delivery?”

“I haven’t ordered anything yet. Besides, no one would deliver this late.”

Shrugging, James stepped ahead of his friend to yank open the front door. His breath left him in a sharp, little _whoosh_ when he beheld the person standing in the yellow glow of the porch light, cradling a small, plastic container to her stomach.

“ _Rose._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love hearing from you all and love hearing what you thought about the chapter 💜 Comments from y'all are always a bright point in my day 💜💜


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Rose have a long and emotional resolution to their devastating fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy everyone seemed to love Jack in the last chapter! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter of James and Rose talking things out. I also really loved listening to y'all guess what might be in the container Rose brought 😂
> 
> Chapter Length: ~7400 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen

James couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked hard, thinking his exhaustion had caught up with him. No, the blonde woman on his porch had to be the night-shift nurse who lived across the street—she often liked to indulge in late-night baking on her nights off, and there were times she would come to James for an ingredient she was missing, or to give him a small sampling of her confectionery creations.

(He had the sudden, jarring, _embarrassing_ realization that she may have been flirting with him the whole time… _Is that why she hasn’t come around in months_?)

“Rose,” he said again when blinking stupidly for at least ten seconds didn’t transform Rose into anyone else.

“Hi,” she said quietly. She looked exhausted; there were prominent shadows beneath her eyes and her shoulders drooped like a heavy weight sat upon them.

Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, and her face fell. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company. I’ll just…” She thumbed behind herself to the dark road. _How did she get here?_ “Sorry.”

Before he could protest, Jack clapped James on the shoulder and announced, “No, no. I was getting ready to head out. Come on, get in out of the cold.”

Jack pressed a smacking kiss to James’s cheek, then muttered, “ _Talk_ to her,” into his ear. He then stepped forward and gave Rose a loose hug and kiss on the cheek before he walked to his vehicle that was parked on the side of the street.

They turned to watch Jack start his car and drive off into the night. James looked at Rose, then at the squarish plastic Tupperware container she held. She was absently flicking her thumb nail across the tab on the lid.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked, nodding to the container.

Rose chewed on her bottom lip and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Well. We’ve been playing a game all month, haven’t we? Time to celebrate.”

She popped the lid off the container and handed it to him. In it were half a dozen large, muffin-sized chocolate cupcakes, frosted in white icing and decorated with pink and yellow star sprinkles. The words “Happy Birthday” were written in small, neat, glossy red letters across each cupcake. His stomach sank.

“It… it’s your birthday?” he croaked. Of course— _of fucking course_ —today had been her birthday.

Rose nodded. “I… I didn’t want to let my entire birthday pass without spending some time with my favorite person.”

James nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Hope you had fun.”

Rose raised an incredulous eyebrow, and the penny dropped.

“Me?” he squeaked, the knot in his chest loosening.

“Yes you, you numpty. Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Do you not love me anymore because we fought?”

James’s knees weakened at the ‘l’ word. He took a step towards her, the arm not holding the cupcakes extended. Her face softened and she stepped into his proffered embrace. Her body was warm and solid against him. Heat prickled behind his eyes as he wrapped his arms as tightly around her as he could without upending the Tupperware container.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry. I…”

“Can we not do this on the front porch?” she asked, voice muffled. “S’cold.”

James was loath to let go of her, but he had to agree the night was getting frigid, especially for him, with his bare feet and thin pajama bottoms and t-shirt. With a sigh, he gave her a final squeeze and dropped his arms from around her waist, then stepped back to usher her into his home.

She toed off her shoes by the front door, and he could already predict her question when she angled her head towards the hallway. “Did you paint something?”

James scratched the back of his neck. “Er. Yeah. Started repainting my bedroom.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the side of Rose’s mouth. “Needed something to keep your mind busy?”

“Something like that,” he admitted.

A more genuine smile crossed her face as she gestured to the Tupperware container he was holding. “Y’know, stress baking would've been cheaper.”

James blinked, then gaped down at the cupcakes he was holding. The font of the words was perfect cursive, the spread of the icing uniform and even. He blurted, “ _You_ made these?”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” she drawled. “Yes, I made them. Well. Elsa helped. She came over to my flat this afternoon. Bit of a girl’s night. Had pizza and wine, then made cupcakes. She’s actually really good at decorating; she’s got this whole set of frosting tips to make fancy designs. She did the lettering.”

“They look lovely. Very professional,” he said. He jutted his head to his kitchen, motioning for her to follow. She did, her quiet, shuffling footsteps falling into rhythm with his.

Rather than go into the kitchen, Rose peeled off to the living room, where Merry and Pippin were lounging on the sofa together, half-asleep. James watched her squat down in front of the cats and give them a bit of love before she returned to him.

“Should Jack have driven himself home?”

James glanced at Rose and saw her pointing to the kitchen table, where the mostly-empty bottle of wine sat. It had a few mouthfuls left.

“It was only half-full when we started,” James answered, picking up the bottle and hurriedly drinking the last of the wine. “This was from last weekend, when you and I… Anyway, he had one glass. I drank most of it. He should be fine.”

“Tell him to let us know when he gets home safely,” Rose said.

James snapped off a lazy salute then sent Jack a text, passing along Rose’s request. He set the Tupperware container of cupcakes on the counter before grabbing two clean bowls from the dishwasher he hadn’t bothered to empty.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Rose said with a grimace. “I already had one after they came out of the oven. Plus pizza. M’gonna puff up like a balloon.”

She pinched her waist, and James frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flamed pink and she dropped her hand limply to her side. 

“I had a huge, greasy burger and chips for dinner. D’you think _I’m_ gonna puff up like a balloon?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, no. But you’re…” She let her sentence dangle as she waved her hand vaguely up and down his body. 

“And you’re…” He mirrored her gesture. “Rose, I find you absolutely beautiful, and you losing or gaining weight won’t change my opinion. Not that my opinion should matter. If you don’t want a cupcake, or if you’re not hungry, that’s fine. And again, not that you need my approval.”

Rose sighed and twisted her hands in front of herself before she turned away from him and rooted in his freezer for ice cream he always made sure to have on hand.

“I had a minor eating disorder as a teen,” Rose said quietly, pulling out the ice cream and shutting the freezer. “Nothing too serious. I was obsessed with my weight, and was really careful with what I ate. I counted and logged calories. I grew out of it when I realized watching what I ate made me feel even worse about myself. Of course I still tried to eat healthy and to eat reasonably-sized portions, but I stopped being so strict with it. I obviously started putting on some weight, nothing too drastic, but Jimmy would often tease me and tell me to lay off the chips or whatever, because rock stars don’t date chubby girls.”

James’s ears were ringing with rage and heartbreak, and he was furious with himself for everything he had accused Rose of last night regarding Jimmy.

“Rose, I…”

“As I said, I’m fine now and I don’t really care about my weight or body image as much,” Rose interrupted, setting the ice cream on the counter in front of him. “But sometimes those thoughts pop up without me realizing it. Like they did just now.”

Unsure of how to respond, James instead took a cupcake out of the Tupperware container, unwrapped the paper from the bottom, and set it into the bowl. “Did I… did I say something wrong?”

“No. Quite the opposite, actually. You told me your opinion, but didn’t shove it in my face or try to force me to believe you. And like I said, I don’t often realize when I’m having these thoughts.”

He nodded and forced his lips into some semblance of a smile that he hoped looked supportive. He then returned his gaze to the bowl and the ice cream she’d retrieved.

“D’you want to share this with me?” he asked, gesturing to the bowl with a spoon.

Rose nodded. He scooped several large dollops of vanilla ice cream into the bowl then he went to his junk drawer. It overflowed with a random assortment of objects: scissors, several different types of batteries, notepads, pens, pencils, a ruler, a screwdriver, tape, glue, Band-Aids, rubber bands, paper clips, binder clips, thumbtacks, toothpicks, a ball of twine, a condom, a tampon, and so many other things James didn't remember throwing into the drawer.

He dug through the mishmash of objects until he found a small, half-empty box of birthday candles and a matchbook. He took out four candles and brought them and the matches over to where Rose stood at the counter.

“I would try to shove twenty-two of them into the cupcake, but firstly I don’t have twenty-two candles, and secondly, I’m pretty sure I would end up pulverizing the poor cupcake into a pile of crumbs. So use your imagination; two and two equates to twenty-two.”

He shoved two of the candles side by side into the left side of the cupcake, right before the H and B in “Happy Birthday”. The other two, he stuck into the right side of the cupcake, behind both Ys. Striking the match, he ignored the shaking in his hands as he lit the candles. He then promptly blew out the match and dropped it into the water-filled wine glass in the sink to let it stop smoking. However, Rose must have seen the tremor in his hands, because she reached over and threaded their fingers together.

“I don’t like fire,” he admitted. “For obvious reasons.”

“You didn’t have to light the candles then,” Rose said gently.

“Pfff. It’s your _birthday_. Can’t have a birthday without blowing out some candles. How else will you get a free wish?”

Rose cracked a small smile and squeezed his fingers. She leaned forward as though she were about to blow out her candles. James cried, “Wait!”

She pulled back with a start.

“It’s your twenty-second birthday. I would think you would remember how this goes by now,” he drawled. He then sucked in a deep breath and began to sing. “ _Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Ro-ooose. Happy Birthday to youuuuu_.”

She was grinning by the end of it, especially when he intentionally sang off-key for the sole purpose of making her smile. He’d made her cry too much in the last twenty-four hours; a smile from her was a welcome sight.

“Right. Those candles are all charged up with birthday magic. Now you can make a wish and blow,” he said, bowing and gesturing to her cupcake.

Rolling her eyes at him, Rose closed her eyes and paused for about five seconds, before she blew out a short breath, extinguishing the candles with ease. He applauded her effort, then yanked the candles out of the cupcake and extended two of them to her. They licked off the cake crumbs and icing—cream cheese, he noted with delight—then dropped them into the trash.

“Let’s eat this before all the ice cream melts,” James said, gesturing to the table. “Want anything to drink? More wine?”

“Just water.”

He grabbed two glasses from the dishwasher and filled them with water from the pitcher in the fridge before plopping down at the table beside Rose. He noticed his phone had a new text notification; Jack had replied, letting him know he was home. James relayed the news to Rose, then gestured for her to take the first bite of her birthday cupcake.

For several long minutes, they sat silently together, trading off bites of cupcake and ice cream until the bowl was empty. 

“That was very good,” he praised, swiping his finger through the melted mess of ice cream and chocolate crumbs on the bottom of the bowl and licking the digit clean.

“Thanks. Elsa loves to bake but doesn't get the chance to do it as often as she likes because she lives in the dorms on campus.” Rose ran her fingertip along the rim of her glass. “When I invited her over to my flat, she said stress baking was a requirement. She didn’t know it was my birthday until we started decorating the cupcakes.”

“Do you have an aversion to people knowing it’s your birthday?”

She snorted. “No. But it just… it didn’t feel right to celebrate. Not when we’d…” She trailed off with a shrug. “All month I’d been looking forward to finally telling you it was my birthday. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone about my birthday if I couldn’t tell you.”

“I really buggered your birthday,” he sighed, chest tightening.

“Nah.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, well, yeah. But it wasn’t just you. I didn’t help. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate my birthday today, so I kept it to myself. Anyways. Elsa knocked a bit of sense into me this afternoon. Helped put some things into better perspective.”

“I’m glad you have a friend like that to share things with,” he said.

Rose hummed in agreement. “She also called me out for being an idiot.”

James snorted. “Jack did much the same for me.” He paused, fidgeting uncomfortably for a few seconds before he blurted, “I am so sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry for snooping through your mail and reading that letter, and I’m so sorry for jumping to a conclusion that was absolutely ridiculous, and I’m sorry for accusing you of not trusting me. I’m sorry I twisted the situation and your words and actions to put the blame all on you. I’m sorry I let my own insecurities warp my perceptions of you and our relationship, and I’m so, _so_ sorry for ever insinuating that you would want to go back to Jimmy.”

Rose was dead silent. When James chanced a peek over at her, he was horrified to see tears welling in her eyes. She blinked and they fell down her cheeks.

Sniffling, she wiped at them and whispered, “That really hurt. I thought I had told you enough about Jimmy to show you he wasn’t a nice person to be in a relationship with. And I thought…” 

“You did,” James interrupted fervently. “You did Rose. You were absolutely correct in saying I had selective memory. You told me more about him than I realized. I was too caught up in my own head last night to remember everything you’d said. I’m so sorry about that.”

Rose waved him off. “Forget Jimmy for a minute. Even if he wasn’t a wanker… It hurt that you would think I would be tempted into a new relationship with someone else when we’ve been so happy together. At least, _I’ve_ been happy.”

“I’ve been happy, too,” James said. He covered her hand with his. “I swear, Rose. I’ve been so happy with you.”

He wished he had better answers for her. He wished he could explain what had triggered him last night, explain how his brain had disregarded nearly seven months of a friendship and four months of a relationship stronger than he’d ever had before. Why had he thought Rose would be tempted by an ex-boyfriend who had treated her so horribly? Why did he have the anxiety that Rose would see through his facade and realize he wasn’t as exciting as she’d thought? Why was he so fearful she would leave?

 _Because everyone leaves_.

The realization crashed over him with the force of a tidal wave, pushing his head beneath the water until he could barely breathe. He was drowning, fighting a losing battle against the current, about to be swept away into the sea when he was thrown a lifeline.

Rose squeezed his fingers hard, grounding him, pulling him back to the moment. His chest was tight and tears blurred his vision.

 _Everyone leaves_.

His mother, who had thought it more prudent to attend to their dogs rather than get herself to safety with her husband and son.

His father, who had rescued him from their burning house only to leave him on the street to go back inside. James hadn’t been enough to keep his dad by his side, and so he had lost two parents that night.

His aunt, who had never wanted kids, had never expected to have kids. She pulled long hours and travelled incessantly, chasing big news stories while James pretended he was fine with being alone, while silently wishing his dad had never saved him from their house. He knew without a doubt that, if his aunt could do it all over again, if she knew then what she knew now, she never would have agreed to be his godmother when he was born. He loved his aunt, and knew his aunt loved him, but he wasn’t so naïve as to be ignorant of the fact that he had upheaved his aunt’s life, and not entirely for the better.

The friends he had left behind in the UK and never heard from again after he and his aunt moved to America. People he had known since childhood who hadn’t bothered putting in the effort to stay in touch, despite claiming they would.

His previous partners, many of whom finding ways to end their brief relationship after realizing he didn’t want to have sex with them. Time after time, he had to listen to them say it was fine that they weren’t being physically intimate—with an unspoken _yet_ dangling between them—only to listen to them make up excuses for why they were ending the relationship. Granted, he had broken off a relationship himself a few times, but over half the time, his partner had been the one to end it.

Over and over, people came and people went, and at the heart of it, James was hardly more than a spectre, unable to be seen or heard as his heart was left broken. And yet when Rose had joined him, had taken his hand and made promises and vows that nobody ever had before, he had jumped at the first opportunity to assume she would leave him, too.

Chair legs scraped across the floor a moment before a warm, familiar arm wrapped around his waist. He turned into Rose and rested his cheek on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, the subtle tones of amber and citrus, of warmth and love and _home_.

Something deep in his chest cracked open, releasing the floodgates. For the past nine and a half years, he had been drifting, trying to make sense of how he could feel so alone when he was surrounded by people, able to make new friends and acquaintances at the drop of a hat. Yet there was always that _disconnect_ , making him feel more like an outsider looking in. Like everyone else was aware of the punchline of a joke while he was left clueless.

Until Rose. With Rose it had been natural. Effortless. It was though his world had shifted into perfect focus, and at the heart of it was her. She had reminded him of what it felt like to belong, to feel perfectly at home with another person. And though he was desperate not to lose her and what they had together, part of him was holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yet in doing so, he had let his anxiety take control and had hurt Rose badly enough that he had nearly caused her to do exactly what he had been terrified of.

James’s shoulders shook as he wept quietly into Rose’s neck, dampening the collar of her shirt. She didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she held him closer, rubbing her hand up and down the length of his spine as he sobbed and gasped for breath.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry for everything, Rose.”

Haltingly, through the juddering tears that cracked his voice, he explained his revelation to her. He hoped he didn’t sound like he was making excuses for himself, but he genuinely wanted her to understand the conclusion his big, stupid brain had come to.

“I let my fears take over,” he said, voice raw from crying and talking. “I didn’t realize what they were. And I didn’t realize how loud they’d gotten.”

“I understand,” Rose said quietly. “Believe me. I understand. Is there anything I can do to help you quiet them?”

James rubbed his hand beneath his clogged, stuffy nose and grimaced when it came away wet. He pulled away from Rose and stood, moving to the sink to wash his hands, then to grab a handful of tissues. He blotted his eyes then blew his nose before he sank into his seat beside her again.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I know this is a me problem, not a you problem. You’ve been wonderful, Rose. You and me… our relationship… it has all been wonderful. I don’t know why I was so quick to let ten minutes of screaming insecurities make me forget about half a year of loving you.”

Rose chewed on the inside of her cheek, contemplating. “If ever there’s a time those voices are getting too loud, I’d like you to tell me. Though I know sometimes they can go unnoticed. But if you realize you’re getting stuck in your head, let me know and I’ll try to help you out of it.”

James flashed her a grateful smile. “Same for you. If there’s ever a time I can help you with whatever’s on your mind…”

Rose sighed. “I need to get better about that. I’ve realized I have a bad habit of telling myself I will deal with something _later_ , but later never actually comes.” She sucked in a big breath and blew it out again. “I’m sorry you saw that letter from Jimmy. Yeah, you were a bit of a twat for reading it and reacting like you did. But I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, and that I ignored how it made you feel. And I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t trust you. I’m sorry I made you self-conscious for everything you’ve shared with me and that you feel like I don’t share enough with you.” She let out a sad little laugh that twisted his heart. “This is going to sound lame, but I honestly didn’t realize I wasn’t being as open with you as I thought I was. It feels like you know me better than anyone ever has, so I didn’t think to change anything. But now that I know how you feel, I want to work to be better at that.”

James shook his head and covered her hand. “No, Rose. I got caught up in my own head and in my frustration. You’ve shared more with me than I wanted to admit last night.” Jack’s words clanged around in his head. “I shouldn’t have expected the exact same level of sharing from you as I am comfortable with giving.”

“That’s not fair. I _am_ comfortable with you…”

James cringed. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not accusing you of anything, Rose. Merely stating a fact. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or upset, I swear. I want you to be comfortable talking with me, and forcing you to talk about things you aren’t comfortable with is counterproductive.”

“Thing is, I was always going to tell you everything about Jimmy,” Rose sighed. “When he first texted me, it sent me into a blind panic and I sorta… shut down. I wanted to take the time I needed to get into a better place before sharing it with you. But I guess I didn’t realize how long it was since he first texted me.”

James stayed silent, letting her get her thoughts together. He twined their fingers together, happy to be able to sit and touch her like this, when for many long, heartbreaking hours in the wee hours of that morning, he had been sure that he would never be able to do so again. Her hand fit perfectly in his, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to make their relationship whole again, to make sure he could hold her hand for the rest of their lives.

When Rose began speaking, he gave her his full attention and tried to keep his emotions in check. He listened to her explain how Jimmy had texted her out of the blue, having gotten her number from a “mutual friend”.

“M’still not sure who gave it to him,” Rose said with a sigh. “He never told me and none of my friends claim to have done it.”

James listened to her describe the early conversations she’d had with Jimmy, from telling him that she needed time, to working through her anxiety with the help of Elsa and a counselor, to coming to the decision to let Jimmy say his piece.

“He was very important to me at one time. He was the love of my life. He was my everything. He will always be important and special because I genuinely loved him, and like it or not, my experiences with him shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t love him anymore, and frankly don’t miss him or want what we used to have, but if this would help him and me move on, I really wanted to let him say what he needed to say.

“He apologized to me, and it wasn’t even a terrible apology. Though he did make it sound like we both were at fault, but you know what, it was better than I was expecting, so I sorta took it as a win. I figured we were done, but then he wanted to know if he could repay me for all the debts he’d left me with. I can’t remember if I told you before, but he stopped paying his part of the rent at the end of our relationship. I got so behind on those payments because I had other bills to focus on that by the time I moved out, I was six months behind.

“I refused Jimmy’s offer. Told him everything was paid off and he didn’t owe me anything.” Rose sniffled and smiled ruefully, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You know my money insecurities. I couldn’t stand the thought that he might use this as a way to control me again. So I shut him down.”

“Good for you,” James murmured, his first words in a while. “You don’t have to go on. It’s okay.”

But Rose shook her head. “I _want_ you to know all of this. I want to come to you when—as Elsa puts it—shit ties up my brain. And my brain has been in knots for over a month. I want to be better with being okay about my thoughts sometimes getting tangled; I realized if I waited until my brain was calm to tell you everything, I would never tell you anything. I don’t want secrets between us, and I’m frustrated with myself that I unwittingly kept secrets from you. I can’t promise I will tell you immediately when something is on my mind, but I will make more of an effort to be more open with you. I wish I’d told you all of this sooner, but I can’t go back and change how I handled this, so let me tell you all of this now.”

James nodded and brought their clasped hands to his lips for a soft kiss.

“After I told Jimmy I didn’t want his money, I thought we were done. I didn’t hear from him for a few days, but then I got a text from him, a selfie with some of our old friends. A harmless group photo. Then he started sharing news from home. Or he would send me playlists. Stupid, innocent stuff we used to. He has really good taste in music and I’m always happy to have new songs or artists to listen to.

“We started chatting a little more regularly. Not daily, but a few times a week. A few messages at a time. He shared updates about his life, told me about going to drug and alcohol meetings, financial counseling, and so on. I told him about America and school. I didn’t tell him about you, though. It’s stupid, and I should have because I don’t think Jimmy realizes I’m not single, but you’re _mine_.” The word sent a thrill up James’s spine, and he couldn’t help but kiss her knuckles again. “You’re mine and I didn’t want to share you with him. I didn’t want anything of Jimmy to touch you. And I wasn’t trying to lead him on or anything. Or keep him a secret from you. But all of a sudden it’s been five weeks since he first texted.

“Then he sent me that letter. It came two days ago. I cried when I got it. I never gave him my address, so I panicked that he had somehow stalked me and found me, that he would be waiting at the university for me. And I was just… so _defeated_. I thought maybe he’d changed. Grown up or something. Stupidly, I thought maybe we could eventually be friends. But the only thing he wanted was for me to get back together with him.”

Rose’s tears dripped down her cheeks and her breathing hitched. James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. She willingly leaned into him and sniffled quietly for a long moment.

“Did you really think that was a love letter?” Rose croaked.

“Pardon?”

“What Jimmy wrote to me. Did you think it read like a love letter?”

James sucked on the inside of his lower lip. He tried to remember the content of the letter, but his memories were all tainted with the pain of their argument.

“I don’t remember enough of it,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Rose lifted her bum off of her chair, reaching into her back pocket to pull out a piece of paper that had been folded into eighths.

“Here,” she said, giving it to him.

Tentatively, he took it. Rose pulled herself out of his embrace and grabbed a tissue from the crumpled pile he had brought over. 

As he reread the letter, his stomach twisted into knots when he picked out several words and phrases.

_I’ve found a piece of myself…_

_I’m not complete…_

_I hate the person I am without you…_

_…happiest of my life…_

_…nothing more I’ve wanted…_

_…(our life?)…_

_You make me feel like I can do anything…_

_I love how I feel when I’m with you…_

_I was scared about how much I needed you…_

_…something I always knew would be there for me…_

_I know I can make it work this time…_

_…enjoy your time there, while you can…_

_…we can work harder together to make us work…_

_I will do whatever it takes to make this work…_

Over and over, James read the letter, his mind picking up more of the tone and the sheer _selfishness_ in it. Everything Jimmy said was about him, about how _he_ needed Rose, without giving a thought about whether Rose wanted or needed him. He plainly admitted to taking her for granted, and still, after all this time, he acted as though he and Rose were equally at fault for how their relationship had ended.

How must it have sounded to Rose, for him to go off on her about the letter?

“Oh, Rose,” James breathed, “I’m so sorry. God, I was a twat, wasn’t I?”

She let out a watery giggle. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Can I ask…? How did Jimmy find your address? I mean. Do you even know how he found it?”

Rose’s eyes welled with tears again, even as she scoffed. “My mum.”

“Your… mum?” That had not been what James had expected. “But… why?”

Rose shook her head. “Apparently Jimmy went ‘round the estate. Found my mum and told her we’d been chatting. Said he wanted to send me money to help cover the bills I’d paid. He said exactly the right thing—when I moved back home, my mum kept telling me over and over that Jimmy should cough up the money to cover his half of the flat and the expenses that had built up. 

“A couple weeks ago, my mum asked me if I’d been chatting with Jimmy. When I said yes, I guess she assumed I knew Jimmy wanted to repay me but I was being _unreasonable_.” Rose’s face crumpled. “I know my mum didn’t know how badly Jimmy had treated me, and that's my fault for not telling her. But what if he’d been a murderous stalker? What if he’d physically or sexually abused me? What if he used that information and showed up alone at my flat one night and broke in and…?”

She coughed out a wracking sob and buried her face in her hands. James nearly began crying at the sight of her distress. “How _dare_ my mum give out my address like that? I never thought she’d do something like that. My mum called to wish me a happy birthday and I told her a little bit about why you and I were fighting, and she told me she was the one who gave Jimmy my address. I got so angry with her, and she was gettin’ angry with me. I’ve spent the day crying ‘cos I was fighting with my two favorite people.”

James tossed the letter onto the table and wrapped his arms around Rose, holding her tightly to his chest. He had never been angrier with another person than he was right now with Jackie Tyler. Well. Jackie Tyler and Jimmy bloody Stone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m sorry.”

“Joke’s on Mum, though; Jimmy didn’t send a single quid with that letter.” Rose sniffled and scrubbed her hands across her eyes. “I hate this. I wish I’d blocked Jimmy from the start, I wish I’d told you when he texted, I wish I’d told my mum not to talk to Jimmy. I wish I’d handled everything differently, and I wish I hadn’t gotten so upset with you last night. I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry for it all.”

James tightened his hold around her, burying his face into her neck while she wept into his. “You have every right to handle situations however you think is best. I should have had more faith and trust in you and in our relationship. I was unreasonable. But I forgive you, love. Of course I forgive you. I _love_ you. I love you more than you can imagine, and I’m so sorry I doubted it last night.”

Rose began crying harder into his shoulder. Her breaths came out in harsh gasps as she managed to reply, “I love you too. I’m sorry for putting the doubt in your head… when you asked if I was breaking up with you and I said I didn’t know. God, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it at all. I got scared too, same as you, and my brain sort of shut down because it couldn’t stop thinking of everything Jimmy had said or done in the past, and twisting it to look like what you were saying and doing. That’s something I need to work on because that’s insulting for me to imply that you’re anything like him, but I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed you out, and I’m so sorry.”

James merely held her tighter, his heart breaking at her agony, yet filling with more love for her than he’d ever felt before.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, Rose,” he murmured into her hair. “The _strongest_. You’ve overcome so much, and you’re working to make yourself the best version of yourself that you can be, and that’s so admirable. I am here to listen to anything you want to tell me, but I am okay with not knowing everything. I trust your judgement, and I know you’ll tell me what you want me to know.”

He continued speaking quietly, a combination of reassurances, affirmations, and words of love. She shed more tears than he’d ever seen her shed, and he shed just as many. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a very long time tangled with Rose.

When her tears finally dried, he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her head before sitting back in his chair. He grabbed a tissue for himself and passed one to her; they noisily blew their noses and wiped their eyes.

“Well. Wasn’t that cathartic?” he said cheerfully, holding his hand out for her tissue to throw in the rubbish bin.

She chuckled. Though her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were splotchy, he didn’t think there was a more beautiful person in the world than her.

He washed his hands after throwing away their used tissues, then he grabbed a few more, just in case. His nose was still a bit runny, and he was sure Rose’s had to be too. He plopped into his chair with a groan.

“First fight,” he mused. “Can tick that one off the list, I suppose.”

“Was it everything you expected it to be?” she drawled, rolling her eyes.

“Admittedly it was a lot more painful than I thought,” he said. “But now we can go back to how we were, right?”

Rose paused. In the silence, his heart sank into his stomach.

“I don’t know if we should,” she said carefully, and his lungs were suddenly out of air. Her eyes widened. “No, not like you’re thinking. It’s just… everything we fought about, everything we talked about, it changed us. It changed our relationship. Not in a bad way, but it’s different now. We’re more aware of some things that we weren’t before. I don’t want to go backwards with you. I want us to go forward. Together.”

James nodded, shoulders slumping in relief. He slid his hand across the table, slipping it beneath Rose’s so her palm rested against the back of his hand. He splayed his fingers, letting hers fall between the gaps. She curled her fingers around his hand.

“You’re right,” he said, caressing his thumb along the side of her pinkie. “Absolutely, you’re right. Guess this means the honeymoon period is over?”

“Probably.” She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Hopefully we’re not over the _horny hump_ though.”

“You’re never gonna let me forget that I said that, are you?” he whined, grimacing.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as he often did. “It was such a dorky thing to call it.”

He pouted. “You never complained about my dorkiness before.”

“I love your dorkiness. Doesn’t mean I won’t tease you about it though.” Her smile slipped until her face turned solemn. “I’m really glad we talked this out, James.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Me too.”

“Any time Jimmy and I had an argument, we never did this. We’d shout at each other, curse at each other, and then ignore each other and not speak for a day or so. Then we’d have angry make up sex and pretend everything was fine in the morning. I don’t want to ever do that again. I want to communicate with you and to compromise with you, then grow with you.

“Staying in love is a choice, and it takes work. It shouldn’t be _hard_ , but it’s not easy either. We need to choose to stay in love, decide that our relationship is worth making an effort for. I want to wake up every day and choose you, to choose _us_ , and I want to put in the work because I wanna enjoy the payoff. Because being in love with you, James… it’s the best I’ve ever felt. You make me feel like I can do anything, like pass a stupid chemistry class or tell my stupid ex-boyfriend to fuck off. I love the way you make me feel. I love feeling like I’m home whenever I’m with you. And though this home we’re building with each other might have a leaky roof every now and then, I wanna fix it with you.”

James’s eyes were burning again. _How was anything even left in his tear ducts?_ “Oh, Rose. You make me feel the same way. And I feel so inadequate because you just waxed romantic poetry at me, but my brain has stopped working. But please know I love you with every cell in my body, and I want to keep loving you with every cell, all the way down to each little organelle contained within, every day for the rest of our long and beautiful life together.”

Rose grinned at him and leaned over to press a light kiss to his lips. They tingled at the contact, and he wanted to pull her close to kiss her again.

“You’re such a science geek,” she said.

“Well. I’ve already shown you I’m rather fabulous with many types of chemistry and anatomy,” he drawled, flashing her an over-the-top wink as he clicked his tongue lewdly.

She burst into a fit of laughter that he echoed, feeling at peace for the first time in twenty-four hours. The exhaustion of all those hours suddenly overwhelmed him. His laughter morphed into a yawn, which spread to Rose.

“I’m knackered,” he announced unnecessarily. “Will you come to bed with me? My bedroom’s a disaster, but the guest bed is made.”

Rose nodded and stood up from the kitchen table. She took their bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before leaving it there for them to clean properly in the morning. She then flicked off the light on top of the stove before she followed him through the rest of the house, locking up and turning lights off as they went.

“Can I see what you’ve done to your room?” Rose asked.

“Sure,” he said, continuing down the hall rather than peeling off into the guest room. When he got to his closed door, he warned, “It’s a mess.”

They were hit with the stench of paint fumes as soon as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked on the light, and the room was bathed in the yellow glow of his lamps.

“Love the color,” Rose said.

“Yeah?” he asked, pleased with himself that, even in his miserable, depressive state of trying to not think about Rose, he had managed to pick a color she would like.

“Mhm.”

“I have to put on the second coat. I’ll probably do that tomorrow—I’m not really feeling like going to my classes, so I’ll probably ditch ‘em again.”

“You rebel,” she teased. “If you want some help, I don’t have anything important going on tomorrow. And I don’t work this weekend. We can take a few days to finish up the painting and reorganize your furniture.”

James smiled. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked her face against his shoulder. “Besides, it’ll go faster with two.”

Leaning down, James brushed a kiss to her crown then rested his cheek in her hair. “Faster with two. Better with two.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze as he kissed her again. “Better with _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It was a lot of fun to write, if not a bit tricky to navigate some of these heavy emotions. As always, I'd love to hear from you 💜


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makeup sexxxxx 🥳🥳🥳🍆🍆🍆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lindsay ([Aintfraidanoghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts/pseuds/Aintfraidanoghosts)) deserves the biggest shoutout for this chapter. Without her love, support, and encouragement, this chapter would have been lost to the fires of Mount Doom a dozen times over.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~8000 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: Explicit

James awoke slowly, groggily. His head was pounding and his eyes were scratchy and blurry. He had slept deeply and dreamlessly, and now that he was drifting towards consciousness, he had absolutely no idea where he was or what day it was. If he’d had to give the year or month, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to do it.

He would have been perfectly content to close his eyes and try to fall back to sleep; however, the cat yowling at the foot of the bed was making that impossible, as was the sharp, pulsing ache in his bladder. Had he gone out drinking the night before? That might explain his throbbing head, his desperate need for the toilet, and the reason he was asleep in a strange bed.

“Pippin, shut it.”

James blinked through the haze of his vision. Rose lay next to him, but they weren’t in his bed. And they definitely weren’t in Rose’s bed; he had way too much room to splay his legs without them falling off the mattress. But the room was familiar. They were… in his guest room?

The events of the past night finally clicked. Rose was here. Rose was here after they’d made up from their awful fight, and she’d stayed the night with him.

His chest warmed with love and gratitude at the sight of Rose pulling a pillow over her head as Pippin began meowing more earnestly upon realizing both humans were awake.

“I hate your cat,” Rose mumbled, her voice nearly inaudible.

“You love him,” he cooed. Pippin paced in the thin strip of space between their bodies, then stepped onto James’s lower belly. James yelped and swiped his cat to the floor, ignoring Pippin’s cry.

Rose snorted. “All right?”

“I _really_ need a wee,” he squeaked. He vaulted out of bed and sprinted across the hall to the guest bathroom, ignoring Rose’s laughter behind him.

After attending to his over-full bladder, James stumbled to the kitchen—noticing with a grumble it was only seven in the morning—and he filled Pippin and Merry’s food dishes. Preemptively, he went into the basement and placed their bowls down there, knowing he would start painting before too long. Neither cat realized what he intended to do until he trekked up the stairs and closed the door behind him. He heard the frantic sounds of racing feet, then the scratching of paws and claws at the door, followed by the most piteous mewl he’d ever heard.

“Oh, you’re fine,” he said. “Go eat your breakfast, bud.”

Not particularly wanting to stand there arguing with his cat, James turned away from the basement door and went into his guest room. Rose was snoring lightly, her chest rising and falling with her even breaths.

He hadn’t been sure if he would see this sight again, and he knew he would never take it for granted. Though wide awake, thanks to his stupid cat, James instead slipped beneath the sheets once more, nestling deep into the mattress. It wasn’t as cozy as his mattress, a little too firm for his liking. He suddenly wondered whether Rose liked his other bed or favored this one; in all the months they’d been sharing a bed, he never once thought to ask if she preferred firmer or softer mattresses. Maybe they could invest in one of those fancy, dual-firmness mattresses he was always seeing commercials for on the television.

James began getting antsy after only a few minutes of lying beside Rose. He tried to ignore it, to take advantage of snuggling with her, but his mind was _awake_ and itching to _do_ something. Plus, they weren’t really snuggling. He was on his side, watching her sleep.

 _Not creepy at all_ , he muttered to himself.

Noticing that he was beginning to fidget, James relented with a sigh. Pecking a soft, barely-there kiss to her forehead, he slipped out of bed again and padded into his kitchen to start coffee and clean up the dishes from the night before.

Quietly as he could, he emptied the dishwasher and hand-washed the few dirty dishes in his sink while his coffee brewed. He had the belated realization that the scent of coffee might be enough to disturb and wake Rose. _Oops_.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He grabbed his hazelnut-flavored creamer from the fridge and poured a healthy dollop into the bottom of his caffeine molecule mug. He took his coffee to the kitchen table and grabbed a crossword puzzle book to keep himself busy; he didn’t want to start painting yet, since the fumes and the noise would probably wake Rose, if she wasn’t already awake.

Surprisingly, it was another hour before Rose joined him. James was deeply engrossed in his crossword and didn’t hear her soft footsteps; he jumped when she linked her arms around his neck and rested her chin on the top of his head.

“Morning,” she murmured, voice gravelly.

“Morning.” He tilted his head up, accepting her kiss.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Mhm. Like a rock. Which is nice, since I slept for maybe four hours last night. Well. Last _morning_. I didn’t actually try to go to bed until six, and I didn’t really sleep. Just sorta dozed on and off and…”

“You went to bed at _six_?” Rose interrupted, a frown evident in her voice. 

“I was busy,” he said, a little defensively. “Gollum wee’d on my bed _and_ the guest bed, so I had to wash all the sheets and duvets. D’you know how long it takes those things to dry? Oh, by the way, Gollum’s got a UTI. He’s at the vet. I should be able to pick him up today or tomorrow. Anyway, I was busy washing all of the blankets and sheets, and then I figured I would vacuum and wash my bathrooms between loads, and then I realized I hadn’t dusted in a while, so I—”

Rose leaned down and silenced him with a swift, hard kiss. His mind went blank as he cupped his hand around the back of her neck to hold her in place. She pulled away too soon for his liking and utterly ignored his pout.

“I love you, but blimey, you need to work on not talkin’ so much before I’ve had my first cuppa tea,” she drawled, ruffling his hair.

She moved away from him to start the kettle and to grab a mug and tea bag. James stood and refilled his mug with his third cup of coffee.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, filling the mug to the brim to finish off the coffee in the pot.

“Not really,” she admitted.

James’s shoulders slumped. “Oh. Was it the mattress?”

Rose blinked. “What? No.”

“Is that mattress too firm?”

“No, it…”

“Do you like the mattress in my bedroom? I was thinking this morning that I never really considered the type of mattress you like, and if you don’t like what I have we can go shopping together for something you and I can both comfortably sleep on and…”

“Jesus Christ,” Rose muttered under her breath, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

James abruptly stopped speaking, his ears and cheeks burning. “Er, sorry.”

“Your mattresses are fine,” she said. “If you would’ve let me finish, I was about to say I had weird dreams that kept waking me up. I dreamt Jimmy showed up. In one of the dreams, you and him became best friends…”

“Fat fucking chance,” James blurted, irrationally irritated at his dream self. “Rose you know I would _never_ …” 

Rose rolled her eyes. “I know. Didn’t keep my subconscious from dreamin’ about it though. And in another, Jimmy kept shoutin’ at me for the most ridiculous things that I can’t really remember. I didn’t want to keep dreaming about him, so I figured I’d get up and we could start painting your bedroom.”

James stepped up to her, arms outstretched for a hug, if she wanted it. She did, and tucked her head beneath his chin, linking her arms around his hips.

“I haven’t responded to Jimmy yet,” she said quietly. “I didn’t tell him I got his letter. I don’t know what to say to him. Or if I even should say anything.”

James gave her a tight squeeze. He wanted to tell her to block his number and burn his letter, but ultimately the decision was hers. He would simply be there for comfort and support, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to vent to.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “So proud. I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

She tightened her hold around him, nearly clinging to him and ignoring the beeping of the kettle.

“Thanks.” She sighed and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “I’m gonna make an effort to tell you when I talk to Jimmy. _If_ I talk to him.”

James ran his fingers through her hair. “I’ll be here to listen when you’re ready.” He kissed her gently. “Can I make you some tea and toast?”

She nodded and loosened her arms from around his hips, then allowed herself to be guided to an empty kitchen chair.

They ate a meager breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs while they sipped their respective hot beverages. When they’d finished eating and their plates and mugs were in the sink, James led Rose to the guest bedroom and found some old, ratty clothes she could borrow. He donned the shorts and paint-splattered t-shirt he’d worn the day before, and gave Rose a pair of mesh shorts and a frayed, stained t-shirt he often wore to do yard work.

“Right! Ready to get painty?” he crowed, clapping his hands together.

Rose giggled and nodded, but paused and asked, “Are Merry and Pippin gonna get in our way?”

“Locked ‘em in the basement,” he assured. As though to alert the world of his displeasure, Pippin began meowing very loudly from the basement door.

Ignoring his wailing cat, James took his phone with him in case the vet called, then he walked down the hall and flung open his bedroom door. The paint smell had dissipated somewhat overnight, and to his delight, all the walls looked dry enough for a second coat of paint.

They took a few minutes to discuss a plan of attack, wherein it was decided James would put the second coat on the ceiling while Rose started on the walls. That was how the next few hours passed, with James climbing up and down the ladder and working around Rose.

When the ceiling was completed, James opened up the can of glossy white paint to get started on the crown molding. Rose had finished two of the four walls, and they looked beautiful; the paint was even, with no brush or roller marks left behind.

His legs and core were getting sore from balancing on the ladder, and he wanted to say _sod it_ to the crown molding. But he hadn’t been particularly careful when applying the paint to his walls and ceiling; as a result, the trim work was speckled with blue-gray paint. With a sigh, James dipped one of his smaller brushes and began the arduous, painstaking task of painting the trim around the ceiling.

After about an hour of scaling up and down the ladder, of reaching up and out to apply the paint, his back and shoulders were nearly burning with exertion. While he wanted nothing more than to stop for the day, he was eager to have this damn project _finished_. He was tired of his house smelling like paint and of needing to keep his poor cats sequestered in the basement.

He climbed down the ladder and returned the lid to the paint can, figuring they were due for a lunch break. With a groan, James leaned down and touched his toes, twisting slightly. Each vertebrae crackled like a bag of crisps. He exhaled as he straightened, then lifted his arms up and over his head. His back popped loudly, spreading relief through his entire spine.

“God that felt good,” he sighed, raking his hands through his hair. It felt a little damp with supposed perspiration.

“You’re covered in paint.”

James glanced over to where Rose was working the paint roller up and down the walls to apply a clean, even coat. His focus narrowed to the flex of her shoulders, visible even through the over-large t-shirt she was wearing. His mind’s eye could easily see the soft, smooth expanse of her back, the jut of her shoulder blades, the flesh on either side of the valley of her spine, the subtle dimples that peeked just above the waistband of her trousers. His fingers itched to push her shirt up, to map out her back and her belly, to press himself against her and kiss the side of her neck and her shoulder and… 

He forgot she had spoken until she glanced over her shoulder at him expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “Well, you’re one to talk. You’re covered in paint too.” She’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun at the beginning of their venture, and several strands had escaped over the course of the morning, billowing around her face. Small streaks of paint adorned her forehead and cheeks from where she no doubt impatiently pushed her hair aside. “Besides, we’re _painting_. By default, that means we’re going to end up covered in it.”

Rose grinned, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth. His stomach gave a funny little lurch, and he wanted to chase her tongue with his.

“Your hair is practically white,” she teased.

“No, it’s not,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenged. “Look at your hands.”

He blinked at her, then glanced down. To his horror, he saw that most of his right palm was coated in paint. He looked to the ladder: the brush he’d been using had wet, sticky paint all along the handle.

“Oh, no,” he moaned. He raced into his en suite and saw that Rose was right: paint was streaked and clumped in with his hair.

He groaned.

“Told ya.”

Rose stood behind him and linked her arms loosely around his middle. She rested her palms on his stomach and began to rub long, lazy lines up and down his torso. Goosebumps rippled across his skin and he tried to keep himself from shuddering at her touch.

“You ought to be more careful about where you set your brush,” she murmured, stretching onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss to the nape of his neck, right above his shirt collar. “Want some help washing it out?”

“My beautiful hair,” he whined, mostly to hear her laugh.

He succeeded; she giggled and reached up to ruffle his poor, paint-splattered hair. He could feel how stiff it had gotten with paint.

“C’mere.”

Rose dropped her arms from around his middle and skipped into the bedroom for the roll of paper towel they’d been using to try to keep their hands relatively clean. Clearly he had failed in that regard, and his hair had paid the price.

While she did that, James washed his hands, scratching at the dried paint with his nails until his hands were spotless and pink once more. He then angled his head at Rose when she finally joined him in the en suite. But she shook her head and boosted herself up onto the vanity countertop instead. She ripped off a few sheets of paper towels and ran them under warm water to moisten them.

She gestured for him to step closer, and he readily did. He was not expecting, however, for Rose to link her legs around his hips. She hooked her ankles over one another behind his thighs and pulled him even closer. He sucked in a sharp breath as the front of his hips met with hers.

Automatically, he rested his hands on her thighs. Her borrowed shorts had ridden up, and he couldn’t help but touch her bare skin. Her legs tensed, drawing him in, before they relaxed again.

“C’mere,” she repeated, and he leaned into her.

He dropped his head so it was in easier reach for her; his new vantage gave him a teasing view down the front of her shirt, which had gaped low in front as she leaned forward and up. He couldn’t see anything beyond the soft swell of the tops of her breasts and he had the ridiculous urge to rip the front of her shirt open.

Rose sank her fingers into his hair as she began to scrub the damp paper towel through it. He bit his lip as sparks of pleasure shot across his scalp whenever she used her nails to scratch at a particularly stubborn bit of paint.

“God, you really worked it in deep,” Rose muttered, voice an octave lower than normal.

“What can I say? I’m very thorough.” His voice cracked, and he cleared it impatiently.

Rose’s hands gradually stilled in his hair. She set the damp cloth to the side and he took that to mean she had given up on his hair. He lifted his head and met her gaze, as dark and hungry as the desire churning in his gut.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly their lips met, softly at first them more urgently as Rose flung her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Not knowing where to put his hands, he cradled them at her lower back, splaying his palms across her spine. James groaned and shuddered as her tongue slid against his, mapping out the contours of his mouth. She flicked her tongue along the roof of his mouth, then the backs of his teeth, then his upper lip. Next she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and bit it gently, scraping her teeth across it before she released it.

Heat unfurled low in his stomach, twisting and tightening his guts as it concentrated into a steady, dull ache in his groin. He could feel himself getting hard as Rose tightened her legs around his waist, pulling him in, in, in. 

God, he wanted her. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, body, mind, and soul. He wanted to make love with her, to hold her tightly as he pleasured her. He wanted to make her forget all about the heartbreak of the last twenty-four hours and to simply _feel_.

But after what she’d told him about makeup sex with Jimmy, would she even want to have makeup sex with him? He didn’t know, and so he would be perfectly satisfied to simply lose himself in her kisses for the rest of the afternoon. It would be enough to cradle her in his arms and let their breaths mingle in the same space as they shared kiss after kiss.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Rose mumbled into his mouth, reluctantly pulling away. Her lips were red and slightly swollen, her eyes dark and hooded. He recognized that expression, and his stomach clenched with anticipation.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.

However, she pressed her hand to his chest. “Wait. Do you want to be doing this?”

“You can’t feel my interest in this?” he drawled, smirking. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but was hard enough that there was no way Rose couldn’t feel it. Even so, he pressed himself lazily into her.

“There’s a difference in you wanting it versus your body reacting to it,” Rose said with a shrug. “If you’re not into this…”

“I am,” he promised. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to share with her what had been going on in his head. “I was just wondering if maybe _you_ weren’t. What you said yesterday about makeup sex with Jimmy…”

He trailed off with a small shrug. Rose’s expression softened, and she leaned forward to press a gentle, brief kiss to his mouth.

“We used to have angry sex instead of talking,” she said. “You and I spent an hour last night talking things out and apologizing. You opened yourself up to me and made me feel comfortable to open myself to you. You let me know how I hurt you without raising your voice, calling me any rude names, or swearing at me. And you let me tell you how you hurt me without getting all defensive or dismissive about it.”

James’s blood began to boil as his hatred of Jimmy Stone was rekindled. He pushed it aside, however, to stay in this moment with Rose. Jimmy didn’t get to take up space between him and Rose, especially when they were sharing such intimacy together.

“ _That’s_ what I want from a relationship,” Rose concluded. “And now I would like to make love with my best friend because I want to make him feel good and show him how much I love him. And I want to forget about anything else because nothing else will ever be more important than him and me and what we share together.”

James’s chest tightened and he swore he had never and would never love anyone more than he loved Rose. He covered her lips in a frantic, hungry kiss, feeling as though he couldn’t get close enough to her. She moaned into his mouth and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, mapping out the planes of his stomach, his obliques, his chest. He shivered at her touch, nerves sparking.

He stuck one of his hands under her shirt, walking it up to her breast, while his other dipped into the front of her borrowed shorts. They were loose, giving him plenty of room to work. He groaned when his fingers met with her wet heat.

“Got hot and bothered watchin’ you,” she gasped as his fingers teased her, tracing long, slow lines through her. “Was gonna snog you on the ladder but figured that probably wouldn’t end well. Don’t really want you breaking your back falling off the ladder ‘cos I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.”

James snorted lightly. “I was getting distracted watching you too. I love seeing you in my clothes.”

“Good thing I like wearing your clothes. _God_.” She hissed when his fingers circled that wonderfully sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips arched into him, urging him on.

He eagerly complied, keeping his touch light and unhurried, relishing the variety of sounds she made. From the low moans to sharp inhalations, the noises she let out tightened the coil in his belly. He was so hard and desperate to rub against something, or to shift aside their clothes and enter her. But he also wanted to continue pleasuring her, so he worked to ignore the demands of his body.

Rose, however, was as in tune with his body as he was, and must have sensed how tense he’d become. She stuck a hand down the front of his shorts and wrapped her fingers around his hard length. He groaned at the sensation, at the _friction_ of her hand moving lazily up and down. Her rhythm was as slow as his, mirroring the motion of his fingers against her.

All the while, James kissed her. Their kisses grew clumsier as their breathing turned ragged. He gave up on kissing her and instead lavished attention to the side of her neck, concentrating his efforts on the sensitive skin beneath her ear and where her neck joined her shoulder. 

“Rose, I want you,” he rasped, his belly clenching impatiently. “I want to be inside you. Let me make love to you. Let me make you feel good.”

She let out a whimper, her fingers tightening around him. He arched his hips greedily, urging her to continue even as he fumbled with the best way to shift her clothes.

Sensing his deliberation, she reluctantly took her hand out of his pants. She moved them to the edge of the vanity on either side of her hips.

“Here,” she panted.

She unhooked her legs from around his waist, then tightened her abdominal muscles and arms as she lifted her bum off the counter. Wasting no time, James hooked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts, grabbing them and her knickers. He slipped them down her hips and thighs in one smooth motion. She impatiently wiggled her legs, helping him remove her cumbersome clothes, before he finally got them free of her feet. He threw them to the floor, then made to drop to his knees in front of her.

“No,” she said, grabbing the front of his shirt to halt his movements.

He blinked. She loved oral, just as he liked giving it. “But…”

“Later.”

“Promise?” he asked with a pout.

She grinned. “You can go down on me for as long as you like later. But for now…” She cupped her hand around his erection through his shorts, stroking him slowly. He shuddered as his breath escaped him in a low groan. “I want you inside me. Right now.”

Carefully, she lowered his shorts to free his erection. He worked them all the way down his legs and kicked them off behind him. He next grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Rose scrabbled with her shirt as well. She threw it to the floor, then reached behind herself to unclasp her bra.

The heat in James’s belly tightened as her breasts were revealed. In his (totally unbiased) opinion, they were the most beautiful pair of beasts in the world.

Now that they were both naked, it dawned on James that there were far comfier places to do this. 

“Let’s move to a bed, love,” he said, even though it was so, _so_ tempting to stay right as they were. It would be easy to step between Rose’s legs and push himself into her wet heat; it would feel incredible, being surrounded by her, making her moan, feeling her clenching and throbbing around him. 

He shuddered violently as his need spiked, but Rose was already hopping down from the vanity countertop in all of her naked glory. He couldn’t help but catch her in his arms and kiss her. He hissed when his erection pressed to her hip. He grabbed her arse and pulled her into him.

“Y’know, standing-up sex is much more difficult and uncomfortable than countertop sex,” Rose drawled, though her words died on a gasp when he covered her breast with his mouth. He flicked his tongue against her nipple and scraped his teeth across it.

It became too awkward to keep his neck bent like that, so he instead replaced his mouth with his hand and moved his lips to the side of her neck.

“You are utterly irresistible,” he breathed, repositioning his hips so his erection was stimulating her as well. He flexed and arched his into her, ignoring that primal urge to enter her, to make hard and fast love with her.

“Counter’s right there,” she sighed, threading her fingers through his hair and hooking a leg around his waist.

Oh, God, that was the angle he needed. On his next forward grind, the tip of his cock slipped through her folds, teasing him with a hint of heightened pleasure. Fire blazed through him, a desperate, aching, burning heat as his body exploded with sensations.

He thought he would never again get to do this with her, yet here he was, mere seconds from joining with her in that most intimate way that belonged just to them. She was the only one he would ever share this with, the only one he _wanted_ to share this with.

“Rose,” he gasped helplessly, grinding into her harder and faster.

Raw _desire_ overwhelmed him, and he could hardly do anything but cling to her.

“Bed.”

Rose lowered her leg from around him, causing him to slip away from her. He grunted in displeasure as his cock was met with the cooler air of the en suite.

A small, soft hand slipped through his, pulling him into the bedroom. The smell of paint was all around them. Brushes and rollers and paint cans were strewn around the room, but in the center of the room was a beautiful, glorious, comfortable _bed_. It was covered in a protective cloth canvas, but it would be a simple matter to shift the canvas aside. 

Rose, evidently, had the same idea. She grabbed the edge of the canvas and shoved it to the foot of the bed, leaving them enough space to crawl onto the mattress.

They moved in perfect synchronicity, with Rose settling on her back, legs fallen to the sides, and James hovering atop her, his hips cradled in hers.

Rose wasted no time; she took him in hand, lined him up, and guided him inside of herself. He couldn’t help the soft cry as he was surrounded by her. She echoed his moan, locking her legs around his hips and digging her nails into his shoulder blades.

James began to shake. Hot shivers pricked across his body, and he had the mortifying dread that he was about to come any second. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think about anything other than how good it felt to be inside Rose, how safe and loved he felt, how relieved he was to be making love with the love of his life when, for a long, exhausting, harrowing day, he thought he’d lost her and broken this beautiful life they shared.

It was then that he realized his body had been telling him he was about to start crying. Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, before they were brushed away by gentle hands.

“James.” Rose caressed her thumbs beneath his eyelids, a silent request. He opened his eyes and saw that hers, too, were glistening with tears. “I love you. More than I can say. More than you’ll know. More than I thought I could ever love someone. You are my happy ending, the happy ending I never thought I’d have, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and laughing with you and crying with you.” 

A choked sob bubbled up his throat and he spared a thought for how ridiculous they must look, lying on a bed in a paint-strewn room, connected as intimately as two people could physically be, and yet they were both crying.

“I love you, Rose,” he answered, voice raw. “Thank you for…” _For what? For loving him and letting him love her? For letting him apologize and giving him an apology in return? For being patient, kind, and loving? For making him feel at home for the first time in a long, long time?_ “For everything.”

She brought his face closer to hers and brushed a ghost of a kiss to his cheeks overtop the tear tracks, then to his lips. She planted kiss after kiss to his lips, gently at first, then more frantic as he slid his arms under her shoulders to hold her closer. Their mouths moved greedily together, falling into a rhythm they each knew well as James began to move atop her.

Rose broke the kiss with a sigh, arching her hips into his. Their kisses grew more sporadic, with James concentrating his efforts on her neck and collarbone. She felt _amazing_ , the slick drag of her tightening muscles around his cock sending frissons of pleasure across his entire body, head to toes.

He gathered her impossibly closer, burying his face into her neck as he breathed her in, her scent overpowering the smell of paint in the room. He was surrounded by her, by her warmth, her body, her _love_. With every thrust of himself into her, he was being consumed, giving himself willingly to her and receiving all of her in return. 

Rose began trembling, clenching around him as her breathing hitched. Shifting his weight and balance, he took one of his arms away from her to slip his hand between their bodies to rub the place they were joined. Her back arched, thrusting into him as she squeezed him tighter, tighter, tighter…

She cried out his name, the sound full of pleasure and relief as she was swept away by the force of her orgasm. Shuddering and shaking, her nails dug hard into his spine as she clung to him. He could feel his own pleasure mounting, feel the urgency building within him as he quickened his pace. 

His body was too small to contain the maelstrom brewing inside of him. His lungs constricted, leaving him panting raggedly at her shoulder as he moved within her. Rose had stopped pulsing around him, so he returned his arm to the mattress, bracing himself as he snapped his hips harder and faster, chasing his release.

Rose scraped her nails up and down his back, raising goosebumps across his skin and pulling a low groan from deep in his throat. _Fuck_ , she felt incredible. He never wanted to leave this moment, yet he was desperate to reach his climax, to join her in that overpowering ecstasy.

Her lips were at his ear, her hot breath tickling it deliciously as she whispered, “I love you, James. My James. I love you.”

He cursed and cried out as the tension in his belly flared sharply, then rolled outwards, boiling his blood and leaving pleasure in its wake. He’d never felt so good and was sure nothing else would ever feel as amazing as this, despite the past four months proving to him that making love with Rose would always be addicting and overwhelming.

He was thoroughly exhausted when the tide receded and he slumped bonelessly into Rose. He could hardly catch his breath and he was sure his arms would never stop shaking.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rose mumbled, sounding as worn out as he felt, “but if makeup sex with you is always going to be that intense, we’re gonna need to find things to argue about at least weekly.”

James snorted, then giggled, before he was full-on belly laughing. Rose was laughing just as hard beneath him, her shoulders shaking as she gasped for breath. His abdominals ached by the time he managed to pull himself together.

“Your hair is still a mess,” Rose said, running her fingers through it.

Shivers prickled across his scalp. He moaned and pressed closer.

“I think a shower is gonna be the only way to get all the paint out,” she continued.

“Mmm. I could use a bit of help. To make sure my hair is utterly paint-free.”

She grinned. “I s’pose I could be persuaded to join you. After all, I might’ve gotten paint in my hair and need someone to check it out for me.”

“See? I’m doing you a huge favor,” he said.

Rose pinched him, then sighed and melted into the mattress and pillows. “We probably ought to get more painting done before we shower though.”

“I dunno about you, but it would take an act of God to move me from this bed right now.”

At that moment, James’s phone began to trill with an incoming call. He grunted in annoyance, unsure where he’d left his phone, and figured whoever was calling couldn’t be more important than his post-coital cuddle with Rose.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” she asked, trailing her nails lightly up and down his spine.

He huffed. “Unless God is calling, no.”

“It could be the vet,” Rose said as his phone continued to ring. “Didn’t you say Gollum could come home today or tomorrow?”

With a displeased groan, James pushed himself up to his forearms, then carefully rolled off of her. His muscles complained at the movement; his legs barely held his weight as he stumbled around the room, searching for his phone. The call had ended by the time he found it sitting precariously atop of the canvas-covered nightstand. Rose had been right: it was the vet. He learned upon listening to the voicemail message that he could pick Gollum up any time that afternoon before six o’clock.

“Let’s shower then fetch him,” Rose suggested. “We got a lot done today and can finish up tomorrow, if that’s all right.”

James was sure he would be even sorer tomorrow, but he absolutely _did not_ want to do any more painting today. He enthusiastically agreed, and then waggled his eyebrows and said, “Shower time?”

Rose rolled her eyes but a small smile crossed her lips. She shifted off of the bed, looking as stiff as he felt; hopefully the warm water would help loosen their muscles.

James should have known it would be impossible for their shared shower to be purely functional. As they washed themselves and helped each other scrub off stubborn flecks of paint, they found any excuse to stand closer than necessary. Their damp, soapy bodies rubbed together deliciously and James couldn’t help but trail wet kisses across her skin as his body thrummed with renewed desire. When Rose shampooed his hair and dug her nails deep into his scalp to scrape away all of the paint, James thought he was going to combust on the spot. All of his blood pulsed into his cock with dizzying intensity; by the time Rose rinsed the suds from his hair, he was grinding himself firmly into her hip.

“Again?” she asked with a smirk.

“Please,” he rasped. “I want you.”

“Shower sex requires more balance and strength than I currently have,” she said, sliding her palm down his belly to take him in hand. “But I can think of something else I can do with this.”

With that, she dropped to her knees before him and wasted no time in slotting her mouth over him. Pleasure sparked up his spine and goosebumps prickled across his skin despite standing beneath the warm spray of water. Her tongue drummed across his cock while her hand stroked the base of him.

She built him up with a steady rhythm, and James let himself be lost in her ministrations, for once unbothered that he wasn’t going to last very long. He couldn’t bring himself to care, not when the friction of her hand and the suction of her mouth felt _so bloody good_.

He grunted out a warning when the heat in his belly coiled in on itself. Smirking, she took her mouth off of him and pumped her hand harder and faster down his cock. She arched her chest closer, the overhead lights shimmering off her wet, flushed skin as the head of his cock brushed the swell of her breasts, and _oh God_ , he was done for. 

The tension unsnapped in a sharp wave of pleasure and relief that left him moaning and curling his toes into the wet, textured floor of his shower. He thrust into the sensations rocking through his body as her hand continued moving on him, drawing out his orgasm for as long as she could.

He cursed when his ears stopped roaring and his head stopped swimming. Rose was still crouched in front of him, evidence of his pleasure spattered across her breasts as she lazily stroked his softening cock. He shivered.

“Thanks,” he croaked a bit stupidly.

She grinned. “My pleasure.”

“Pretty sure the pleasure was all mine, actually.” He helped haul her to her feet, and he crashed his mouth to hers. Between kisses, he murmured, “That felt incredible. Thank you.”

“I love doing that to you,” she replied, sighing when he tilted her head back to kiss her neck.

“Looks like you got all covered in paint again,” he drawled, trailing his fingertips across her breasts.

“Really? That’s your line?” she snorted.

He pouted. “What’s wrong with my line? That was a brilliant line.”

She simply rolled her eyes, but another smile tugged at her lips. “That was a _terrible_ line and so cheesy and so dorky.” Before he could splutter out a rebuttal, she kissed him and said, “But you’re my cheesy dork.”

His blood warmed and he hummed, his body overflowing with love and appreciation for her. He kissed her softly and whispered, “Since I got you messy, it’s only fair that I wash it all off.”

“Hmmm?”

James trailed his fingers up and down her sides, from her breasts to her hips, in long, slow strokes. Her nipples pebbled and tightened so invitingly, and he couldn’t keep himself from taking one into his mouth. She arched into his touch, fisting her fingers through his hair to hold him in place. As if he would ever want to move.

Time ceased to mean anything as he lavished attention to her breasts, letting his tongue and the spray of the shower rinse her chest clean. Her breathing turned ragged the longer he allowed his teeth and tongue to tease her nipples and the curve of her breasts. When his back and neck grew too sore to remain hunched as he was, he dropped to his knees before her and gave the same attention to her hips and lower belly.

She thrust closer to his touch, trying to get him where she wanted him, but he smiled to himself and grabbed her hips, halting their impatient movements.

“James,” she whined, tugging at his hair. “I didn’t make you wait.”

“As I recall, earlier you told me, and I quote, _You can go down on me for as long as you like later_. It’s _later_ , isn’t it? And I am nowhere near satisfied yet.”

“James, please,” she begged, and _fuck_ , if she didn’t know what that did to him.

He shivered and tried to continue kissing her hips and thighs, but he was desperate to taste her, to hear her sounds of pleasure.

“C’mere.” He tapped one of her legs, encouraging her to drape it over his shoulder. “I won’t let you fall.”

Rose obeyed, bracing her back on the shower wall for balance and leverage. She gripped his hair tightly with one hand while her other shot to the washcloth holder. Her knuckles went white from how hard she clung to it.

“Relax,” he breathed, planting barely-there kisses _right above_ where he knew she wanted him.

She growled in frustration and arched into him. He caressed her leg, then _finally_ lowered his mouth and lick a long, slow line through her folds. She cursed and squeezed his hair, before loosening her hold.

He feasted on her as though he were a starving man. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t taste enough of her. Her urgent moans spurred him on, and he redoubled his efforts.

“ _James_. I’m gonna…”

He hummed into her, loving her sharp cry as she trembled apart around him. Her thighs shook and he made sure to brace himself to take on more of her weight in case she lost her balance. Rose dug her heel into his spine, pressing him closer to her as she sighed his name and a string of curses.

Many long moments later, Rose shakily unhooked her leg from his shoulder and urged him to his feet. He held her to him, trailing his fingers up and down her spine as she worked to slow her breathing.

“I love you,” she mumbled, face buried in the side of his neck. “You are so good at that.”

He puffed up with pride. “You deserve nothing less. Besides, I love doing that to you. Though I’m miffed you wouldn’t let me go on for longer.”

As though to contradict him, their hot water turned lukewarm, then went suddenly frigid. James, who had his back to the spray, yelped and leapt out of the water’s path, knocking Rose into the wall.

“Christ that’s cold!”

Rose cackled and ruffled his wet hair before she reached around him and turned the water off. “See. It’s a good thing I didn’t let you carry on. I would’ve been _furious_ if a jet of cold water interrupted that.”

James sighed, then grudgingly stepped away from Rose to exit the shower.

“Dunno about you, but I’m starving,” Rose said while they towel dried themselves.

“Worked up quite an appetite, did you?” he asked, winking.

“Nah, I think it’s just ‘cos it’s way past lunch time,” she replied sweetly.

When they were dried and dressed once more, they exited the bedroom and closed the door behind them, then released Merry and Pippin from the basement. 

They inhaled a quick lunch of turkey sandwiches and sour cream and cheddar crisps, with half of a cupcake for dessert. As James cut the cupcake in half—horizontally between “happy” and “birthday”—he remembered the gift he’d had stashed away in his backpack all month long.

“Oh, bugger,” he muttered to himself, ignoring Rose’s look of confusion as he abruptly dropped the knife and rushed to the front door where his bag hung from a peg on the coat rack.

He rifled through it until he found the thin, rectangular velvet box. He had nearly decided on a thicker square box until he realized the box looked like it might hold a ring, and he hadn’t wanted to send mixed messages. If— _when_ , he thought hopefully—he proposed to Rose, he wanted that to be the first and only time she thought a proposal was coming. He didn’t want to tease it in front of her without following through.

Necklace box in tow, he returned to Rose and held it out to her. “Happy birthday. I’ve been carrying it around all month to give to you whenever you told me it was your birthday. It slipped my mind last night.”

Rose’s cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink as she accepted the box from him with a mumbled, “Thanks,” and a brief kiss. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his toes and heels as she took the lid off of the box.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed, running her fingertips delicately across the silver chain and pendant. She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you. I love it.”

He exhaled in relief; he hadn’t been sure what her response would be, since she had an aversion to gifts. But he’d seen the infinity heart design and hadn’t been able to resist.

Rose must have noticed his reaction, and she smiled sheepishly. “I’m trying to be better about accepting gifts. Especially since you enjoy giving them. I really love it, James. Thank you. Will you put it on me?”

She took the necklace out of the box and handed it to him. He draped it around her neck then clasped it, brushing a kiss to her nape to sign off on a job well done.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, unable to resist kissing her again. 

She hummed and melted into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips as she said, “Let’s finish lunch then we can collect Gollum.”

“I’d rather continue kissing you,” he countered, leaving kisses along the side of her neck.

“We can keep kissing when we get home,” she answered, though with how she threaded her fingers through his hair, she was in no rush to put an end to their activities either.

“Or… we can kiss now.”

Rose breathed out a laugh. “You should be a responsible pet owner. Let’s fetch Gollum, then when we get back, we can snog on the couch for the rest of the night.”

“Hmmm, you drive a hard bargain.” He planted a final kiss to the patch of skin right below her ear, enjoying her slight shudder, then pulled away to guide her to the kitchen and their shared, halved cupcake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. As always, I'd love to hear from you 💜


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loose ends are tied up, confrontations are had, and plans for the future are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not exist three days ago. Legitimately, only 400 words of this chapter were written up until Monday. Then my brain utterly **took off** and didn't look back. So here it is! This is the penultimate chapter! Just the epilogue to go. Thanks to everyone who went on this wild ride with me; this fic was supposed to be half the length it turned out to be, but I absolutely loved writing every word of it.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~8400 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: teen

It was a rare occurrence for Rose to wake before her boyfriend, but it made it all the more special when it happened. James was on his back, his hips cocked to the side and his legs splayed close to hers, and both arms were resting on his pillow above his head. He was soundly asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly and deeply. Light from the incoming dawn glowed from the shut blinds of the windows on the far wall behind their bed, casting shadows across the new gray walls of their bedroom.

Their bedroom painting project had taken the entire weekend, but the final product was so satisfying. The walls were crisp and pristine, and the new coat of paint on the crown molding made it pop amidst the gray overtones of the room. Now all that was left to do was update the furniture; Rose prayed James had been serious when he said he would “ _think about_ ” splitting the bill with her for the new IKEA furniture he wanted to order.

She began formulating arguments in her head with which to reason with him when he eventually woke up, but for now, Rose was content to watch him. After the anxiety and agony of last week, a profound sense of _relief_ had settled over her, a new but welcome emotion, and one she had never before felt after an argument of the magnitude they’d just experienced.

In the past, she would lie low and wait for the storm clouds to disappear on their own. Wait for Jimmy to remember why they’d been fighting, and to renew their argument with even more vitriol. Wait for him to pick all sorts of minor disagreements with her or to point out all of her failures and shortcomings.

But here and now with James, everything was different. There were no knots in her stomach, no tiptoeing around him, no passive aggressive insults casually tossed at each other. She wasn’t initiating sex with him to give herself a night’s reprieve of his cold shoulder.

Not that James had given her a cold shoulder in the first place.

No, James had listened to her and cried with her as he tried to explain all of the tangled thoughts in his head and how he wanted to fix them. He hadn’t tried to make excuses or justifications for himself, nor had he made her feel as though she alone were in the wrong. He had admitted fault, had sought her forgiveness and forgave her in return. Though things hadn’t regressed to normal, they had come together and moved forward into what Rose hoped was their new normal.

They had slipped into place, aware of things they hadn’t been before, and fit together in a different but beautiful way. James and Rose. Perfect complements. He was soft where she was sharp; she was calm where he was shaky. But through it all, they were wholly, irreversibly, and uncontrollably in love.

The vision of his face crumpling as he told her about how alone he had felt for all these long years was burned into her brain, and she was fiercely protective of him, wanting to shelter him from any more agony, wanting to show him day after day that he could let out the breath he held, because she wasn’t going anywhere.

_Speaking of letting out a breath…_

James exhaled noisily and shifted towards her, mostly asleep, but seeking her out nevertheless. Smiling to herself, she rolled into him. Her smile broadened when he groaned quietly and flung a clumsy arm around her middle, tucking his hand under her ribs on her opposite side. Thoroughly anchored to him, Rose rested her hand at the base of his spine where his shirt had ridden up. His skin was soft and warm; she couldn’t help but trace idle circles across it, which morphed into little hearts.

She nestled her cheek at the top of his head, enjoying the tickle of the soft strands of his hair. Quiet mornings like this were some of her favorite things about being in a relationship. The simple intimacy of holding James, of watching over him in a moment of sleepy vulnerability, humbled her.

They had spent nearly every waking and sleeping moment together over the last three and a half days, had made love time and time again as they sought comfort and support in each other, and yet Rose still wanted him. Not just physically—though he _was_ a damn fine shag—but _emotionally_. She craved his presence, yearned to talk with him and laugh with him and flirt with him.

And after spending the last four nights together, Rose was loath to go back to her flat. The thought of returning to that small, lonely little dwelling that no longer felt like home filled her with a deep and pervasive ache that was made worse by the knowledge that Jimmy knew where she lived. He could so easily catch a flight to America and track her down, if he chose to.

Her heart skipped a few beats before pounding hard enough that her vision throbbed. She clenched her eyes shut and squeezed James, trying to push away the memory of the brown-haired, blue-eyed boy she used to be in love with in favor of the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy she was in love with now and forever.

He snuffled and stirred. She cursed, carding her fingers through his hair to soothe him back to sleep, but it was no use. With a grunt, James tilted his head up to look at her. His eyes were bleary as he blinked for a few confused seconds, before he broke into a joyful grin that twisted her guts deliciously.

“Morning,” he rasped, licking his lips.

“Morning.”

They moved together, with James reaching up and her ducking down to cover his lips in a gentle kiss. He worked his hand beneath her shirt, splaying his palm at the base of her spine to hold her close. Heat bloomed through her stomach, racing through her veins at his touch. It was delicate but not hesitant, reverent and not possessive. She had never, in all of her twenty-two years, felt as safe with another person as she did with James.

“Do we have to go to classes?” he murmured, planting slow kisses to the corner of her mouth.

“We ought to. We ditched on Friday. And you ditched Thursday.”

“Cock block,” he grumbled, even though there was absolutely no heat to his kisses or touches. They were intoxicating nevertheless.

Rose snorted. “One more week of classes, then a week of exams and we can hole up together for the next three months.”

Pouting, he asked, “Promise?”

She kissed him again. “Promise.”

Reluctantly, they pulled apart and slipped from bed. In the routine that was coming to be second nature, Rose moved to the bathroom for her shower while James went off to tend to his cats and to start the coffee. As she applied a light hand of makeup, James took his turn in the shower. They moved around each other effortlessly, getting dressed and eating a quick breakfast, and were ready to leave the house within an hour of Rose first waking.

She gave all of the cats—even Gollum—a pat goodbye, then followed James to his car to be driven to the university. He parked in a commuter lot on the outskirts of the campus, knowing that, even at eight-thirty, the more convenient lots in the center of campus would already be full.

“Have a good day,” she said, stretching onto her toes to give him a kiss goodbye before they parted ways, with him going to the science building and her to the library until her French class.

There was an air of excitement across campus, with all of the students acutely aware that the end was in sight. In two weeks, a quarter of the population would be graduating and off to start their futures, while the other three quarters could blissfully ignore the pressures of academia until the following August.

However, along with the eagerness of the end of the semester, there was a simmering anxiety over exam week. It was something Rose, mercifully, wasn’t feeling. Unlike last semester, she wasn’t in danger of failing any of her classes. Part of her had worried that the high of being in love would distract her from her studies, but she was pleased to see that her grades had not suffered despite her distraction with James. Unless she utterly failed her exams, Rose was mostly confident that she would pass the semester with excellent marks that would help give her cumulative grade point average a nice boost.

The anxiety Rose experienced was not school-related. Rather, she was latently furious with her mother and largely ignoring her texts; neither had she confronted Jimmy about the letter he’d sent. She was running out of time before Jimmy was sure to ask if she’d gotten his letter. He had only texted her once, to tell her that the chip shop where they’d had their first date was being torn down to make room for a block of flats. She hadn’t replied.

Now she was stuck with the decision of whether she wanted to wait for Jimmy to make the next move, or if she wanted to get ahead of him and address it head-on. The latter was the most logical solution, right after blocking his number and ignoring him for the rest of her life. As tempting as that was, she wouldn’t put it past Jimmy to find other ways to contact, including getting a new phone number. He could text her out of the blue again. Put her through hell again. Put _James_ through hell.

That thought stopped all others in their tracks. Her choices in this matter weren’t affecting solely her, as much as she wished the damage remained contained. Their lives were twined together, her and James. What happened to her would weigh on him, just like anything that happened to him impacted her. She was happy to bear his burdens, and while she knew he would just as quickly bear hers, why should he have to? Why should her history have any bearing on their present and their future?

Rose knew she would do anything to protect James from further harm. 

Having arrived at the library, Rose entered the building that was mostly empty and found a cushy armchair in a secluded corner on the second storey. Dropping into the seat, she took her phone out of a pocket of her backpack and fumbled to draft a message to Jimmy.

“I got your letter, and what the actual FUCK was that?” was among the top contenders. Figuring she ought to be more diplomatic, she deleted the words and tried again.

“I got your letter…”

Those words were as far as she’d gotten in fifteen minutes of trying. The longer it took, the more frustrated she became. How hard was it to tactfully tell her ex-boyfriend that he crossed a line?

_How tactful do you need to be though?_

That thought—helpfully in Elsa’s voice—drew her up short, and she was suddenly furious with herself. Why was she being so gracious towards a man who had broken her heart? Who had threatened everything she had been building with James? Who had returned with no warning to try to play nice so she would want to go crawling back to him?

Why should she give that clemency to such a selfish, narcissistic _twat_?

“I’m trying to tell Jimmy to fuck off once and for all. Would it be very rude of me to text him “I got your letter and what the fuck mate?”?”

Rose fired off that message to Elsa. Within thirty seconds, her phone pinged in her palm.

_Hell no! Even that’s too polite a message for what he deserves. What kind of ass schmoozes to the girlfriend he tossed aside like trash (no offense babe) to soften her up to move back to London to be with him again?? And what kind of arrogant fucker *assumes* you would jump at the opportunity to go back to him???_

_Where are you? Do you want a moral support buddy? I can bring Pop-Tarts._

Rose laughed. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you’re not busy. I’m in the library. Second floor, the corner near the ladies’ room at the end of the corridor.”

 _Be there in ten_.

While she waited, Rose typed up her message to send to Jimmy, deleting it half a dozen times before settling with her original message.

“I got your letter. What the actual fuck was that?”

She could almost feel her nerves getting the best of her, her anxiety replacing the righteous anger she had worked up. Not wanting to lose that, or to give Jimmy even an inch of politeness, Rose, with trembling hands, pressed the ‘send’ arrow on the message. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her text appear in a pale green bubble beneath his previous message.

 _Oh God_.

A friendly fist knocked against her shoulder as Elsa plopped into the open armchair beside Rose.

“Strawberry or s’mores?” Elsa asked, fishing two different foil packets from her school bag.

She looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Her tangled hair was pulled into a frizzy ponytail and her eyes were slightly puffy behind the glasses Rose didn't know her friend wore. She was in stretchy yoga bottoms and an oversized long-sleeve t-shirt that bore a pride flag across the chest.

“Nice shirt,” Rose commented. “Strawberry. Please.”

“I know, right?” she said, beaming. She thrust her chest out and looked down at the faded rainbow flag. Elsa then tossed one of the Pop-Tarts to Rose while she ripped into the other one.

“I sent my message to Jimmy,” Rose admitted, breaking off the edge of her Pop-Tart and stuffing it into her mouth. She pulled up WhatsApp and showed the message to her friend.

Elsa’s eyes bugged before she grinned. “Well done! I’m so proud of you!” She scooted her chair closer, then gave Rose’s forearm a comforting squeeze. “Seriously. That’s so fucking hard, what you’re doing. Conflict is the worst, especially when there are bad memories there. You are so strong.”

Rose smiled, not feeling particularly strong, but appreciating her friend’s support. If James didn’t need to be in class, she would’ve asked for him to come to the library for moral support as well.

“I’m going to tell James tonight that I’ve texted Jimmy,” Rose said. “I’m not keeping this from him again.”

“Good. I love you, but God, you were an idiot.”

Rose snorted and half-heartedly shoved her friend, then slouched in her seat to await Jimmy’s response, if he deigned to give one. She had finished one of the Pop-Tarts and was halfway through the second in the pack when her phone buzzed. A new WhatsApp message from _Jimmy S._ awaited her.

Before she could think twice, she unlocked her phone and opened his message.

_What do you mean what the fuck was that?_

“What did that fucker say?” Elsa asked, draping herself across the arm rests to look at Rose’s phone. “That _fucker_! Gimme that fucking phone, I’ll tell him exactly what the fuck you meant.”

Rose didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, she sniffed and chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to figure out what to say before deciding to type the first things that popped into her head.

“Why would you send something like that? We’re over, Jimmy. We’ve been over from the moment you shagged Belinda or whatever her name was. We’ve been over all these years you stayed silent rather than reaching out to me. You had no right to send that letter to me.”

_What are you talking about Rosie? Why are you being like this? I made a mistake, a stupid mistake, but we can fix it. Things got rough, and the years apart did us good. But now we can get back everything we had. We can be so good together again._

“You made more than a mistake! You had sex with someone else! You left me after two and a half years of dating. You told me through a bloody TEXT that you weren’t coming home and that you fell in love with someone else!”

_God, for the last time, it was A MISTAKE. A stupid fucking mistake, Rosie. Jesus, it’s not like you were perfect._

“I never shagged anyone in the two and a half years we were together,” she retorted.

_Christ, would you quit harping on that?? I said sorry, what the fuck else do you want?_

_Look. Hate me and yell at me all you like, but I still want you, Rosie. I want you so fucking much it hurts and I’m gonna fight for you because I didn’t last time. You were the best damn thing to happen to me, and I need you. You’re my better half, and I’m a better man when I’m with you. You make me feel wanted and needed, you make me feel like I can do anything._

“Can’t you hear yourself?” she asked, tears of frustration and anger burning behind her eyes. Elsa hugged her tightly and pressed a tissue into her hand. “You’re listing all the reasons why we were good for YOU. What about me? What makes you think that getting together would be good for me?”

_What do you mean? All that’s good for you, too. You were incredible. We can have that again._

“Yeah, I was good. And I believe it when you say I was and probably still would be good for you. But you’re not good for me. I know that now, and there is nothing that would make me want to get together with you. We were kids. Stupid kids. But I’ve grown and I’m happy with where I’m at. I won’t go backwards.”

_What the hell Rosie? Everything we’ve been through, all these weeks of reconnecting and chatting. And you pull this shit? What was the goddamn point then?_

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you reached out to apologize to me because it was the bloody decent thing to do after all these years.”

_Well, yeah, but then you kept talking to me. You strung me along._

“What part of my messages sounded like I was flirting with you? Talking to a woman doesn’t mean it’s flirting. Talking is talking. I never intended to get back together with you. Sorry if that’s what you assumed.”

_You’re really gonna be like this? Why? Are you doing it for spite? To punish me? Haven’t the last three years without you been punishment enough? Don’t you miss me at all?_

“No,” Rose answered truthfully. “As I told you from the beginning when you first messaged me, I’ve moved on. I’m happy.”

_You’ve got another bloke? Is that it? You should have fucking said so up front._

“It wouldn’t have mattered to you. You have no trouble with infidelity, so you’d have no trouble playing with someone in a relationship either. It’s none of your business if I’m in a relationship or not. I should have told you to fuck off right from the start but stupid me thought maybe you’d changed. Well here it is. I’m not moving home to London. And I’m not getting back together with you. Ever.”

_You know what. Fuck you Rosie. Fuck you. You were a pain in my fucking ass and didn’t know how to have a good time at the end. Why the fuck do you think I went after Brenda? Do you think she was the first? Christ, you’re stupider than I thought._

_And don’t you act all high and mighty, all pure and innocent. Our friend groups overlap. I’ve heard about all the blokes you fucked right after we split. Fucked your way through half of London from what I heard. Opened your legs for everyone, did you?_

“Glad to know nothing’s changed,” Rose said, ignoring the crumpling of her chest and desperately trying not to think of how many times he might have been unfaithful over the course of their relationship. “Can’t have your way, so you throw insults. You’ve just proved my point. No matter how good I would be for you, you’re bad for me. I don’t need that in my life.”

_Well then, prepare to live a long and lonely life Rosie. You’re never gonna find anyone who’ll have a bitch like you and lives up to your perfect expectations._

It was right on the tip of her tongue. (Well. Her fingertips.) It would be _so satisfying_ to throw James back at Jimmy. To show her ex how good she had it, and that she had found all of the love and happiness she never thought she deserved. And the love Jimmy didn’t believe she’d ever find.

But no. James was hers, and Jimmy didn’t deserve to even know his name, let alone how happy James made her.

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? Goodbye Jimmy.”

Rose’s hands were trembling so hard she nearly dropped her phone as she went into Jimmy’s contact information and pressed two satisfying buttons.

 _Clear chat_.

 _Block contact_.

A dual sense of relief and grief washed over her, and she couldn’t stifle her sob before she was weeping uncontrollably into Elsa’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you. I’m so fucking proud of you,” Elsa said, repeating the phrase over and over again as she stroked Rose’s back. “So, so proud.”

“I hate him,” she whimpered. “I hate that I wasted my time with him for those years we were dating, I hate I wasted these weeks talking to him. I hate that I let him get between me and James, and I hate that he _still_ can make me cry.”

“Then promise yourself this is it,” Elsa said softly. “Tell yourself that after this, and after you tell James what happened, that you’ll never let that arrogant motherfucker have another minute, another _second_ of your time, energy, or tears. There are so many other things to focus your energy on. Like boning your boyfriend.”

Rose let out a watery laugh and clung even tighter to her friend.

“Do you need me to get James?” Elsa asked. “I’ll go fetch him from whatever smart-people class he’s in and drag him to the library by his really great hair.”

“You wouldn’t have to drag him, he’d come as soon as you said my name,” Rose said, the thought of her boyfriend warming her to the very core. “Though it would be fun to watch you tuggin’ him along.”

James was at least a foot taller than Elsa, though Rose wouldn’t put it past her friend to find a way to pull James along after her.

“Seriously though. Do you want me to get him?”

“No, he shouldn’t skip any more classes this week. He skipped everything on Thursday and Friday after we… Well.” Rose sniffled, and even though she ached for James to be there, so she could tell him once and for all that she was done with Jimmy, she knew it could wait until they were alone in their home that night.

“I’m glad he was as heartbroken as you were,” Elsa said, then grimaced. “Not that I’m glad either of you were heartbroken. But so many guys tough it out and pretend everything’s fine when it’s not. Too many men have emotional constipation and it’s kinda disgusting. They’re humans, same as you or me, so they’ll feel the range of human emotions.”

James was definitely _not_ emotionally constipated, and that was one of the reasons Rose loved him so damn much. He wasn’t cool and indifferent, though occasionally he wore that façade. But deep down, she knew he felt _everything_. He felt so much—he loved and hurt and rejoiced and grieved with such intensity that Rose wanted it all with him. She wanted to share in his highs and lows, and to share hers with him in return.

“He’s special,” was all Rose managed to say. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“Then you’re both a perfect match. I’ve never met anyone quite like you, and if you weren’t so stupidly in love with your boyfriend, I’d be wooing you to hell and back.”

Rose laughed and finally pulled away from Elsa. In another life, perhaps, she could have fallen in love with the petite blonde in front of her. Hell, Rose _did_ love the petite blonde in front of her, just not in the way she loved James. Elsa had, inexplicably, become her closest friend. They shared the kind of friendship that would last them even once they both left the university. The kind of friendship where they could go months without speaking but pick up a conversation as though they’d never been apart.

“I’m so grateful for you,” Rose said, smiling at her friend, then she leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss to Elsa’s forehead.

“I’m grateful for you too,” Elsa said, grinning.

oOoOo

Rose looked worn out when she met him in the library after classes that afternoon, but when she spotted him, she grinned. The expression cleared the shadows from her face and transformed it into such delight that James was sure he’d misread her initial mood. 

After a quick, perfunctory kiss, he threaded his fingers through hers and walked with her to his car. They didn’t speak much, apart from the usual “How was your day?”, “Good, yours?” exchange. 

“Got much homework?” he asked when he eventually pulled into his driveway after a silent trip home.

“I wanna start making study guides for my exams,” she replied, “though that can wait a few days. My first exam isn’t ‘til Wednesday.”

“Try not to wait too long. Don’t wanna put it off then regret it when the weekend comes.”

She squeezed his hand in reassurance and pulled her keys from her pocket to unlock the front door. As usual, they were ambushed by Pippin, who chirped and mewled, then began to drool when Rose dropped to her knees and scratched his neck and chin.

“Silly boy,” Rose murmured fondly.

She rose to her feet, much to Pippin’s dismay, and hung her school bag on the coat rack. James followed suit, shucking his Chucks off too before he followed her to their living room, where Rose collapsed onto the sofa with a groan.

“Long day?” he asked, sinking to the cushion beside her.

She scooted closer to him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, curling his fingers at her hip, anchoring her to him. He loved warm weather; there were fewer layers between them. Already he could feel the warmth of her skin seeping through her clothes and into him.

“You could say that,” she admitted.

It sounded like she was going to continue, but was interrupted by the chirping of a phone. Even though James knew his phone was on silent, he grabbed his mobile from his pocket. A blank screen greeted him. Which meant…

“Ugh.” Rose thunked her head back against the sofa. James peered over and saw _Mum_ flashing across the screen in a video call request.

“You gonna get that?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

She snorted humorlessly and rested her head on his shoulder. “Planned to ignore her for the next forty years, actually.” Sighing, she asked, “What would you do, if you were me?”

He knew she didn’t mean it to, but the ever-familiar sting of loss rippled through his chest, hollowing it out and leaving loneliness in its place.

Having realized what she said, Rose sucked in a sharp breath and clutched his hand. “Oh, James. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He flashed her a small smile and brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Because of that, my answer will be inherently biased. Not only did I have a good relationship with my mum, but to tackle the elephant in the room, I would give anything to be able to talk to my mum one more time.”

Rose’s shoulder’s hunched. “M’sorry.”

He kissed her knuckles again and continued. “However. Your mum hurt you deeply. She gave out personal information to an abusive ex. That’s… that’s a really awful thing to have done, no matter who Jimmy was. Even if you and he had parted amicably, it’s not her place to give out your address to anybody. She could have and should have told him to get your address directly from you; and it should have raised an alarm that you didn’t willingly give it to Jimmy.”

Rose rubbed her fingers into her eyes, holding her still-ringing phone, and mumbled, “She was just trying to look out for me. She saw me in the aftermath of him. She saw how many hours I pulled to pay off those damn debts. She saw me passing up nights out with my mates because I didn’t want to spend the money. Of course she’d want me to be compensated the thousands of pounds I paid off.”

Letting out a frustrated screech, Rose raked her nails through her hair. In a move that surprised James, she tapped the little green phone icon, accepting her mother’s video call.

“Hi, Mum,” she said wearily, slouching deep into the couch.

“Rose!” Jackie cried.

Figuring he ought to let mother and daughter speak privately, James moved to stand, but Rose wrapped her fingers around his wrist, halting him. Half-standing, he glanced down at her.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Please?”

He could never refuse her, and so he sank to the cushions beside Rose right as Jackie asked, “Is himself there?”

She leaned over, as though she could physically see him if she moved into the correct angle.

“Er, hi Jackie,” he said, pressing himself into Rose’s side and placing his head beside hers.

Over the months they’d been dating, James had joined Rose on a few of her video calls to her mother, yet he hadn’t quite shaken the feeling that he was intruding on their family time, no matter how many times Rose assured him she wanted him to chat with her mum.

“I’ve asked James to stay,” Rose said, anticipating her mother’s next words.

Jackie, clearly, didn’t approve; she huffed and pursed her lips, but, to her credit, didn’t object otherwise. James did his best to be as unobtrusive as possible, including angling himself away from the camera while maintaining contact with Rose.

“I’m still upset with you,” Rose said flatly.

“Well how can I apologize if you won’t bloody answer your phone?” Jackie retorted, indignant.

“I answered it now. I get the first go of it. I’m furious with you for giving my address to Jimmy. That’s _my_ personal information. You had no right giving it out to anyone, but especially not to _him_.”

“He said he wanted to pay you back for the thousands of pounds he left you with!” Jackie squawked.

“I’m sure he did,” Rose muttered darkly. “Well, surprise surprise, he didn’t send me any money, just a stupid, possessive love letter.”

“He did what?! But… you’re datin’! You’re not available!”

“I never told Jimmy about James,” Rose said, and James felt her entire body tense. She set her jaw and pointed a menacing finger at her phone. “If he shows up ‘round the estate, don’t you _dare_ tell him about James either. James is _mine_ , and Jimmy can’t have him. He doesn’t deserve to know anything about him or how happy I am.”

James couldn’t help but lean over and kiss Rose gently on the cheek. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled. She leaned her head on his shoulder and settled into his side.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I gave him your address. But…”

“Typically an apology doesn’t have a modifier after it,” James chimed in, unable to bite his tongue. He cringed when Jackie’s eyes flashed to him.

“He’s right, and you know it,” Rose interrupted before Jackie could lay into him. “Thank you for apologizing. Don’t you dare do it again. Jimmy’s a wanker and he’s old news, and I am done with him. Ignore him, or report him to the police if he keeps harassin’ you. But don’t bother with him anymore. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Jackie sighed, but nodded. Under her breath, she grumbled, “Still think you deserve compensation.”

“I don’t care about that. To me, being shot of him is worth more than anything he might owe me.”

James tightened his hold around Rose, wondering if she’d decided to do away with him and not confront him about the letter he’d sent. He made a note to ask her by the weekend if she hadn’t initiated a conversation with him by then. He hoped she would talk with him about it.

“What did he do to you, sweetheart?” Jackie asked softly, her eyes going a bit misty. “You’ve never been like this with any of your exes.”

Rose tensed beside him, and James stroked her arm soothingly. He pressed a kiss to her temple and breathed into her ear, “You don’t have to say anything. But I’m here no matter what you decide.”

“Would you stop canoodlin’ her in front of me?” Jackie sniffed. “Blimey, don’t you have somethin’ else to do than interrupt my conversation with my daughter?”

“Leave ‘im alone!” Rose snapped. “’Else I’m hangin’ up! He’s here ‘cos I knew this would be a hard conversation and I want his support. Jimmy was an abusive wanker, Mum, and I want—I need—the reminder that James is _good_. That I have him and that what we have together is good.”

Jackie’s face fell, her cheeks paling. “You said… you told me… you said Jimmy never hit you. I’ll kill ‘im. I will. I’ll kill ‘im!”

“He didn’t hit me,” Rose interrupted. “Not once. I swear.”

Rose launched into a very abbreviated version of everything that had happened between her and Jimmy, all the way to its bitter end. All the while, James held Rose as she spoke in clipped, emotionless tones, as though she were recounting something that had happened to someone else. Though he’d heard the entire tale in more detail, it was agonizing to listen to it again; but he hadn’t been the one to live through it, and so his discomfort was nothing compared to what Rose had to be feeling.

Therefore, he sat quietly, never interrupting, and not speaking until the conclusion of the call when they were signing off. He waved and bade Jackie a good night, as it was ten o’clock in London.

Rose reached forward and set her phone on the coffee table. When she collapsed into him, she released a shaky breath.

“Your accent gets stronger when you’re chatting with your mum,” James mused. “Did you ever notice that? Fascinating, innit?”

She let out a humorless laugh that knotted his guts. He tightened his grip around her, wishing that if he held her close enough, he could squeeze her sorrows and anxieties out of her.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. He hoped she knew how very much he meant those words. Confrontation was hard; confronting a loved one was even harder. “Really, Rose. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she said, sounding thoroughly exhausted despite it only being five o’clock. She sucked in a big breath and let it out on a heavy exhale. “I talked to Jimmy.”

James blinked down at her, his mind going utterly still and silent. His mouth was dry as he asked, “Oh?”

Rose nodded. “I’d show you the messages, but I deleted them. And blocked him. I told him…”

“Stop,” he said softly. “You don’t have to do this right now.”

“I want to,” she said firmly. “I’m already exhausted from my mum and from confronting Jimmy this morning, and I want to get this over with so I don’t have to waste any more energy on him ever again. So please. Will you listen?”

He gave her middle a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “’Course I will. I’ll listen to as much or as little as you’d like me to hear.”

It took nearly half an hour for Rose to try to remember what had been said between her and Jimmy. She spoke haltingly, her words getting jumbled as she backtracked half a dozen times. His blood boiled as she described all of the foul things Jimmy had called her, but he remained silent, doing nothing but holding her tightly and giving her kisses when her voice choked up.

“I deleted our messages and blocked his number,” Rose concluded, her voice nearly hoarse from how long she had talked, between her conversation with her mother and telling him about Jimmy. “I’m so frustrated with myself for how it all went. I should’ve nipped this in the bud weeks ago. Should’ve told him thanks, but please leave me alone.”

“You want to see the good in everyone,” James said carefully. “That’s one of the things I love best about you. Your light and your _goodness_. You drift towards compassion and open-mindedness rather than jumping to the worst conclusion. As much as I wish you’d never met Jimmy, you did, and you fell in love with him. You were in love with him for _years_ , and as you said, you’ll always carry that distant fondness for your memories of him because he helped make you into the beautiful, strong woman you are today. Of course you would want to hope that he grew up, same as you. Of course you would want to forgive him. And I’m furious with him for playing you like this, and I am so, so sorry he turned out to be the same old twat he was three and a half years ago. But no matter how things happened, I’m proud of you for giving him a chance, and for putting your foot down when he showed his true colors. And above all, I am _honored_ that you shared all of this with me tonight. _Honored_ , Rose.”

Rose melted into his side and clung to him, her body trembling. “I’m so tired of _crying_.”

“You’ve been so anxious for so long,” James soothed. “It’s understandable. But I’m here for you, no matter what, in whatever capacity you need me.”

“Can we stay like this for a while?” she asked, her voice small. “I just want to hold you.”

“Good thing I want to hold you, too,” he said, resituating himself into a more comfortable long-term position.

Rose shifted too, flinging a leg across his until she was half-laying in his lap, her arms tucked around his waist and her face buried in his chest. James draped his arms around her and rubbed long lines up and down her spine.

“How was your day?” she asked, her voice muffled. “Can you just… talk to me?”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he hummed, kissing the top of her head, “if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s talking.”

He talked for the next half hour, about anything and everything and absolutely nothing. He told her how his classes went, summarizing the key concepts from each lecture. He told her about the stress-relief therapy dogs that the university was bringing in every afternoon this week; they made a deal to go see the dogs at least once together. He told her that he wasn’t in the mood to cook dinner, and would she like Chinese takeaway or pizza? He mused about meal prep for the week using the groceries he had on hand.

On and on he talked until the doorbell rang with their decided-on Chinese delivery.

“I’ll get it, love.” James pressed a kiss to her forehead then slipped off the sofa, grabbing his wallet from the kitchen counter before greeting the delivery girl. He paid her and tipped generously, then carried the bags into the kitchen, where Rose was in the process of feeding the cats.

“Dindin,” she cooed to the two cats wrapping themselves around her ankles. “Nice yummy kibble for you beautiful boys.”

She scooped the food into each Merry and Pippin’s bowls, then retreated to the living room to fill Gollum’s bowl. He heard her talking softly to the cat while he pulled down bowls in which to dump their lo mein, fried rice, and General Tso’s chicken.

“A feast fit for a queen,” he pronounced proudly, beaming at her when she entered the kitchen to return the cat food container to the closet. “M’lady.”

He bowed theatrically, gesturing to the steaming bowls. “And crab Rangoon. Can’t forget those. Best part of a Chinese dinner. Couch or kitchen table? Kitchen table might be easier with all these containers. What can I get you to drink?”

Rose skipped up to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, and planted a long, hard kiss to his lips. He made an embarrassing squeaking noise, but promptly forgot about it as heat rippled down his spine, elevating his heart rate. He held her tightly, fisting his hands in her shirt to keep her where she was as their mouths moved in perfect synchronicity. 

“I love you so damn much,” she mumbled against his mouth. 

Unable to speak, what with her lips devouring his once more, he simply squeezed her closer and relished her labored breathing as she lost herself in him.

“Love you too,” he croaked when they finally broke apart. “Blimey.”

“I really do love you, James,” she said earnestly, biting her red, kiss-swollen lips. 

“Good, ‘cos I really love you too,” he answered. “As much as I’d love to keep snogging you, I’m starved. Let’s eat, then we can snog some more.”

She grinned at him, her tongue poking out between her teeth in that adorably endearing way he loved so much. “Deal.”

He nearly said sod it to his rumbling belly, but Rose turned away from him to help carry their dishes to the table. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, James went to the fridge for a bottle of Riesling.

The first half of their meal passed mostly in silence as they slid bowls and plates across the table to sample the mini-buffet they’d ordered. Pippin interrupted them a few times, but after the eighth time of being gently nudged off the table, he took the hint and went to his own food bowl.

“I want to change my phone number.” Rose spoke so casually that it took James’s brain several long seconds to process what she’d said. “I’m not comfortable with Jimmy knowing my number. Even though I blocked him, he _has_ it. Y’know?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” he said. “We can go after classes tomorrow to get that sorted out, if you want.” He chewed on his bottom lip as another idea came to him. “Actually… if you’d be amenable, it might be a better idea if we went on the same phone plan. A two-person plan is often slightly less expensive than being on a single-person plan. We can split the payments. Just a thought. Obviously we don’t have to.”

Beneath the table, Rose covered his foot with her own. “That’s a good idea. Let me think about it. This weekend I’ll let you know what I decide. Regardless, I want to make a trip to the phone shop to get my number changed.” She speared her fork through a piece of General Tso’s chicken thoughtfully. He stayed quiet, letting her organize her thoughts, and was rewarded nearly a full minute later when she said, “Have you thought more about letting me split the furniture costs with you?”

James grimaced. He had, and was still leaning towards the same conclusion of _no_. The sudden home makeover had been his idea; she shouldn’t have to help him foot the bill of redecorating.

“Before you say no,” she said, shooting him a sly albeit exasperated grin, “hear me out. I know I said I wanted to stay in my flat ‘til the lease runs out in July. But, same with my phone number, I _hate_ that Jimmy knows my address. And I thought… well, I thought maybe I could move in sooner than we planned. I know the house is yours, but it feels wrong for you to pay for furniture I’ll be using too. Besides, I can sell quite a bit of the stuff in my flat. Let me use that to help you pay for the new furniture.”

James’s resolve cracked. Sighing quietly, he said, “It makes me uncomfortable to make you pay for something that was my idea.” She began to protest, but he held up his hand to stop her. “However, I understand what you’re feeling, too. So how about this. I’ll pay for the furniture right now, and once you figure out what furniture you can sell and get those proceeds, you can reimburse me later? Maybe not entirely halvsies, because I think it’s wrong to charge you for furniture that I want to get. Would this be a good compromise?”

He could see the refusal in her eyes, in the way her mouth tightened. She looked down at her plate, and he was certain she was about to argue with him that she would firmly split the cost 50/50. 

Instead, she spoke to her food and asked, “How much is my rent?”

“Rent?!” he spluttered.

She looked up at him, eyes flashing. “I’m _not_ living here for free. If we’re doin’ this, we’re doin’ it as _partners_.”

 _Stubborn woman_. Breathing deeply, he shoved aside the part of his brain that screamed at him to argue with her. That was not an argument he wanted to have. And after everything they’d been through recently, after everything Rose had told him, he refused to pick this fight with her.

“My mortgage, including putting money away for taxes and a rainy-day fund, is a tick over a thousand dollars a month,” he said calmly, forcing himself to be truthful about the amount. He couldn’t imagine Rose’s ire if he downplayed his payments. “Would $500 be an amenable amount for you to contribute?”

Rose’s mouth worked soundlessly for half a minute. “But… that’s less than I’m paying now. A lot less.”

“I am _not_ going to profit from us living together,” he gritted out. “I will _not_ make you pay more than I do. I will split things as equally as possible with you, but please do not ask me to charge you more than what I pay. Rose, please.” He flashed her a cheeky grin that he knew would melt that frozen expression on her face. He was right; her mouth relaxed and she started to smile back at him. “Besides, you’re forgetting that’s just the _mortgage_. There’s also the electricity bill and internet. Those are billed monthly. We can split those down the middle as well. And water, sewer, and trash are paid quarterly. We can split those when they come in, if that’s all right.”

“I s’pose that’s all right,” she said, though the grin tweaking at the corner of her mouth belied her stern tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as bitchy…”

“You didn’t,” he assured. “Sorry if I made you feel like that’s what I thought you sounded like. We had a discussion in which you aired your concerns and conditions, and I aired mine. I don’t necessarily _like_ the outcome, but honestly I wouldn’t like the outcome unless it consisted of me carrying on as I am, only with the most beautiful roommate in the world.” Rose frowned at him, and he hastily continued, “But I know that’s an absolutely ridiculous position to take. Logically, of course we should share everything and divide the costs equally. I _want_ to share everything with you. But it’s _weird_ to me, is all. Give me time. I’ll warm up to the idea. Promise. We’re partners, eh? A perfectly equal 50/50 partnership.”

Rose grinned at him. “Thanks James.”

“Love you,” he said, clinking his mostly-empty glass of wine against hers in an impromptu toast. “To many happy beginnings.”

“And to boyfriends who realize they’re being unreasonable twats,” she teased, winking.

He stuck his tongue out at her and downed the remaining contents of his glass in one swallow.

“When d’you want to move in?” he asked, biting into a crab Rangoon that had gone cold. _Still delicious though_.

“Well, I hoped I could stay over here until we could move my stuff,” she asked nervously, and he vigorously nodded his head, wishing he hadn’t just stuffed his mouth. She understood him well enough, and her shoulders loosened. “Then maybe after exams week? That way we can bother our friends for help without interfering with their studies.”

Swallowing the glob of crabby cream cheese, he managed to say, “Sounds like a perfect plan.”

She grinned brightly, the expression so full of joy and excitement that his own happiness overflowed in the form of a high-pitched giggle.

With that discussion finished, they each went back to eating, neither of them seeming to care that the food was room-temperature. Beneath the table, Rose’s foot brushed alongside his in a slow caress. He returned the gesture, and they passed the remainder of dinner playing footsie beneath the table.

The quiet intimacy was comforting, as were the sounds of his house: his cats crunching on their food; the whirr of the fridge; the buzz of the light over top the stove; the scrape and clink of forks on plates. And most importantly, Rose. She was the brightest presence in his home, and it hit him with the force of a hurricane that she was about to become a permanent presence in his home. She was going to move in, for real, and would be there to stay. No more waking up early so she could stop by her flat for something. No more nights apart because she felt guilty that she hadn’t spent any time in the flat she was paying for.

James lazily stroked his toes across the curves of her feet and ankles, enjoying the simple pleasure that came from these small, significantly insignificant touches.

 _Peace_ , he thought, _this was true peace_. He had never been more content in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everyone is busy around the holidays, but I would greatly appreciate if you could spare a minute of your time to leave a comment 💜 As I said in the opening chapter note, this is the last chapter before the epilogue. This wild ride is nearly done and I'd love to hear from you all 💜


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we've come full circle.
> 
> Chapter Length: ~4050 words
> 
> Chapter Rating: explicit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here we are, folks. The End. This story is nearly three times longer than it was supposed to be, but I absolutely loved writing it and spending more time with James and Rose. I am so grateful to everyone who has commented on these chapters. I’m glad these characters could distract from the shitstorm of 2020. Thanks for coming on this ride with me.
> 
> (See end notes for some sappiness and a treat.)

_A Year and a Half Later_

The stillness of the cool December night was disturbed by a far-off flash of white light streaking against the inky indigo sky. Rose gasped, delighted. “Ooh, shooting star!”

She nudged James’s side, even though his head was already tipped back to scan the silver-speckled sky. The weather was perfect for the star-gazing outing they were on for the next few days. With the exhaustion of exam week behind them, Rose was looking forward to a few days of peace with her boyfriend at Cherry Springs State Park in Potter County upstate. According to James, it was one of the best places to stargaze not only in Pennsylvania, but in the country. Plus, it would be nice to get in as much alone time with him as she could before the following autumn when he went to whichever graduate university he decided on.

Secretly, she loathed the idea of him going out of state; outwardly, she encouraged him to follow his dreams and pick the school he loved best, and that had the most interesting research. And truly, deep down, Rose wanted him to be happy in his decision. But that didn’t mean she would be excited if he chose to attend a university in California.

Closing her eyes against the dark, Rose pushed away her feelings of negativity and despondency to instead make her silly wish on a shooting star. What could she possibly want that she didn't already have? She had the best partner she could have ever hoped for and was genuinely _happy_. More than happy. She was wholly satisfied and wanting for nothing. She loved James more now than she did when she first fell in love with him two years ago, and knew she was as loved in return. Their sex life was as exciting, active, and pleasurable as it was when they first started making love. And in all of her mental projections of her future, there was no scenario in which James was not by her side.

_I guess I wish for things to continue as they are. I want me and James to be happy and in love for our entire lives. I want us both to be healthy and well in the coming year and beyond._

Though she logically knew that a far-off piece of burning space dust couldn’t grant her wishes, nevertheless, Rose apologized for how long her wish was before opening her eyes. James was looking down at her, a soft, tender expression on his face. In the dark, she could hardly see the constellation of freckles that peppered his cheeks and nose.

“Did you make a wish?” she asked, snuggling into his side. His body went tense beside her even as he nodded. She frowned. “What’d you wish for? Unless you’re worried it won’t come true…” 

His body was practically vibrating with tension to the point where she was worried he might be having a fit of some sort. Or he was freezing. Before she could suggest they go inside, he leaned closer to her, brushing a kiss to her cheek.

With his lips at her ear, he whispered, “I wished for a hundred more years like the last two we’ve had.”

She shivered, both from the sensation of his breath against her ear and at the romantic sentiment. He shifted beside her, and Rose thought he was about to pull her closer for a kiss, but instead, he kept speaking, his voice quiet and reverent.

“I wished I would always fall asleep and wake up beside you. I wished to love you and be loved by you forever.”

Rose beamed as her chest warmed with love and affection for the man beside her. Clearly they were meant for each other if he made the same sappy, long-winded wish on the shooting star as she did. Before she could tell him that she’d wished for much the same, he held out his hand in front of them.

In his palm was a small, black velvet box. The air was abruptly gone from her lungs and her head emptied of thoughts. Even when he flicked the box open with his thumb—revealing the most beautiful diamond and sapphire ring she’d ever seen—Rose couldn’t entirely comprehend what was happening.

“But more than anything,” James continued, his voice hoarse with nerves he shouldn’t be feeling, “I wished to become your husband. And that you’d become my wife.”

James planted a firm kiss to the side of her head, then released his hold from around her waist to slide off of the rocking porch swing. Tears burned in her eyes as he knelt in front of her, a heart-wrenchingly vulnerable expression on his face. 

_I love you, God, I love you, YES_. That was what she wanted to say. What she desperately tried to force through her dry mouth. But she couldn’t seem to make her vocal cords work. All she wanted to do was burst into tears of joy and fling herself down onto her boyfriend-soon-to-be-fiancé. 

As a child, she’d hoped to one day get married. As a teenager, she’d assumed eventual marriage to Jimmy was a given. Then, as a young adult, she thought relationships were overrated. They were messy and hurt too much for anyone to willingly enter into one. But then came James. Her James. Her beautiful, soft, _loving_ James, who showed her that happily-ever-afters weren’t exclusive to fictitious fairytales. Who showed her that she was as deserving of love and happiness as anyone else.

James, her lover, her best friend, was choosing her as his happy ending too.

He was still kneeling, the open ring box held out in front of him. Her eyes landed on the ring. A large, round-cut diamond sat in the center of the gleaming platinum band. Flanked on either side were three pairs of sapphires set inside diamond-studded ovals reminiscent of leaves of an ash tree.

It was the loveliest piece of jewelry she had ever seen.

Her mouth worked wordlessly for a few seconds before her tongue loosened and she teased, “I don’t think you can have that many wishes on one shooting star.”

She grinned at him to hopefully melt away that anxious expression on his face. It worked. He let out a soft breath of laughter. “Well, I figure we’d see more than one this weekend. I’ll cash them in later.” He gulped, his chest expanding in a deep inhale. “So what’d’you say, Rose Tyler? Will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?” 

At last, her tears overflowed. A quiet sob bubbled up her throat and she launched herself at him, crashing into him with enough force to knock him to his arse. He didn’t seem to care; he held her just as tightly as she cried, “Yes! Yes, yes, _yes_!”

James buried his face into her neck, trembling and breathing raggedly. When she pulled away, she noted that his eyes were as red and misty as her own, but he looked utterly radiant. She beamed, her joy escaping her in tiny giggles that he echoed.

Their mirth grew until they were laughing somewhat hysterically on the front porch of their rented cabin. The wind had picked up, swirling the frigid air around them, but Rose couldn’t feel the bite through the warmth radiating through her entire body.

“I love you,” James said, reaching over to brush a rogue strand of hair away from her face. “So much, Rose.”

“I love you, too,” she replied. She nearly pulled him in for a kiss when she realized her new ring was clutched in his fist. Tearing off her gloves, she extended her left hand to him and wiggled her fingers. “Put it on me?”

It fit perfectly. Rotating her hand this way and that to admire the shine of the porch lamp on the sparkling gems, Rose sighed, “It’s so gorgeous. How did you know that this is exactly what I would love?”

His cheeks pinkened as he confessed, “I creeped on your Pinterest account.”

Rose laughed, imagining her daft boyfriend scouring through the huge Pinterest board she’d made a year ago when they all but admitted they wanted to and planned to get married to each other one day. She could see him clearly, making notes and spreadsheets about the types and styles of rings that appeared most frequently.

“I love it,” she said. “I _love_ it.”

Preening, he answered, “I’m glad.”

He leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek, then skated his lips down her jaw before covering her mouth with his. Rose tilted her head to the side to free up their noses, parting her lips automatically for him. She felt more than heard his contented little sigh. He melted into her, anchoring one of his hands at the small of her back while his other tried to sink its way into her hair, but was impeded by the beanie she wore.

He grunted in frustration and yanked her hat off, dropping it to the side. His fingers tangled into her hair, teasing the silky strands between competent fingers. Heat unfurled in her belly, pulsing lower the longer he kissed her.

The kiss was on the cusp of frantic, as though he couldn’t get close enough.

“I love you,” he murmured reverently any time his mouth parted from hers. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He continued his litany into her skin, migrating south to give attention to her neck. Fire bloomed beneath his mouth, raising rippling goosebumps across her skin. She shuddered and pressed closer. She wasn’t sure if she’d removed his hat or if it simply fell off, but she didn’t care, not when she was able to sink her fingers into the thick, luscious locks and hold him where he was.

“Love you too,” she panted, arching into him when his teeth scraped across her pulse point. “Forever.”

“Forever,” he promised, and the word fanned the flames of desire.

She needed to be closer, needed more contact with him. Her pulse throbbed between her legs as her body screamed for more, more, more. Gasping, Rose shuddered and clenched her core, desperate for any ounce of relief.

“Want to go inside?” James mumbled, the vibrations of his mouth against her neck the most delicious torture.

He nipped her neck, causing her to arch into him. “Yes please.”

He was abruptly gone, his warmth and touch retreating as he slipped out from under her. Dazed, she fell back onto her bum, trying to think through the buzzing in her head.

“C’mon,” he said, voice gruff. He cleared it and pulled her to her feet. She nearly wrapped him in her arms again, but a bitter gust of wind rattled the chimes on the porch, slicing through her coat.

Silently, James bent to pick up their discarded hats and gloves, then ushered Rose into the cabin. Contrasted with the chill of the outdoors, it felt overly warm inside. Now that she had a little room to breathe, Rose’s mind cleared of the fog of arousal, and she methodically worked to take off her winter weather gear. Her hands trembled as she unzipped her coat and draped it on the hook by the door.

James worked beside her, pulling off his coat and his shoes. His hair was sticking up in every direction thanks to his hat and her fingers.

“Bed?” he asked.

“Unless you’d like to go at it against the front door,” Rose drawled.

“Could show off my manly strength and stamina,” he mused, “buuuuut why make things harder than they need to be?”

Rose grinned at him. “I hope certain things will get harder than they need to be.”

“S’already pretty hard,” he muttered.

Dropping her gaze, her insides clenched to see the prominent bulge behind his zipper. Rose approached him, lifting herself up to her tiptoes to fling her arms around his neck and crash her mouth to his in a searing, toe-curling kiss. He groaned and arched into her, pressing his hips into hers.

“Bed,” he panted. “Rose, please.”

“Get walkin’,” she ordered, attaching her mouth to his once more and shoving her body into his to guide him into moving.

The cabin was small, but in that moment, it felt far, far too large, with the distance from the front door to the bedroom incomprehensibly long. Rose moved with James, stepping forward while he stumbled back.

“Careful,” she warned a mere second before his back collided with the hallway wall.

She followed him, using the leverage of the wall behind him to push into him. He gasped when she scrabbled with the hem of his sweatshirt, pawing at the fabric in an attempt to touch skin.

“Too many damn layers,” she growled. “Ha!”

Her searching fingers were rewarded seconds later by a strip of hot, soft skin at his midriff. His belly jumped with his sharp breaths.

“Rose,” he whined, the sound tinged with frustration and desire. “Bed.”

“We’re gettin’ there,” she said. “You’re the one who stopped walking.”

“I ran into a wall,” he said defensively, his voice jumping an octave.

“Nice place for a pitstop, eh?” she asked, winking.

She caught his lips in another kiss, one he eagerly reciprocated. His mouth was commanding, searching for more while her hands continued to fumble with his clothes. Grasped either edge of the front of his jeans, Rose _tugged_ , popping open the button of his trousers.

James grabbed her hips, but rather than arch into her, he pushed her away from him. 

“ _Bed_ ,” he growled. “ _Now_.”

“M’busy.” As he guided her backwards, she stuck her hand down the front of his jeans. The cloth of his boxer-briefs was soft against her palm where she splayed a protective hand across his prominent erection to yank his zipper down.

“It’s very hard to walk with your hand on my cock,” he said, his voice choked.

“You seem to be doing all right.”

Grunting, James grabbed her wrist and pulled it out of his jeans. “You minx. Bedroom. Now. Before I take you right here on the floor.”

A shudder of desire shot down her spine, sending raging, throbbing heat between her legs. With her wrists in his firm grip, James marched her down the hall and into the bedroom.

“Can I have my hand back?” she asked, breathless and impatient to get their clothes off.

“I suppose,” he said, though he kissed her knuckles before releasing her.

They worked independently to shed their clothes, knowing full well that if they started touching each other, they wouldn’t be in the mood to waste time with clothes.

“C’mon, c’mon,” James grumbled, scrabbling to pull his tight-fitting jeans and pants down his legs in one motion. 

Finally, they were both sufficiently naked, and James grabbed Rose into his arms. His body was hot and solid against hers. The drag of their skin together created ripples of goosebumps, and she couldn’t get close enough to be satisfied.

“Lie down, love,” he commanded, nudging her to the mattress.

Those few seconds of separation were enough to create a swell of longing in her. She hurriedly scrambled to the center of the small, full-sized bed, then watched James crawl on after her. She let her thighs fall open for him.

Wasting no time, Rose reached between them and guided him into her in one smooth movement. She cried out at the sudden fullness, at the delicious burn of her muscles as she adjusted to him. He trembled above her, holding still, before setting an easy, familiar rhythm.

Rose wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him, cradling him into her body and moving with him. Each roll of his hips fed the heat low in her gut, until she was gasping for air, her body consumed with the need to find her pleasure.

Time was meaningless, slipping away and leaving her blind to the world outside the little room where she and James were making beautiful, wonderful love. She would never get enough of him, never be over her craving for him and his body and their love.

As much as she was enjoying herself, Rose loved watching James get lost in her. Little grunts of exertion escaped his lips on every forward thrust, and she noted the pitch change that came with the slight stutter in his rhythm.

She could already predict his next words; he let out a choked groan, his head falling forward as he rasped, “Rose, I’m gonna…”

His body was tense above hers as he worked to hold himself back. Rose closed her eyes to bask in the sensations ripping through her. Every thrust deepened the pressure in her belly; it built with frantic intensity until she was clenching around him, desperate to fall over into pleasure.

He cried out softly as she tightened around him. He snapped his hips harder, harder, harder, driving himself deep within her.

“I can’t…” He gritted his teeth and groaned, low and deep. “ _Fuck_ …”

Rose reached up and fisted her hands into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he released inside her with a moan of relief and pleasure.

“My James,” she whispered into his ear, smiling when he sucked in a sharp breath and shivered. “I love you.”

Beyond words, he let out a wordless groan and pressed closer to her, fumbling between them to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Pleasure sparked through her, tightening the coil of desire that had loosened until she was right on the cusp again.

Though he was coming down from his high, he let out the noises he had come to know she liked to hear. The gravelly rasp of his sighs and moans made her shiver. She clung to him.

“My Rose,” he crooned. “My love. My _fiancée_.” He let out a giggle that was far from sexy, but it was so full of joy that she didn’t care.

 _Fiancé_. James was her fiancé.

It hit her with dizzying intensity that she was going to _marry_ him. Her best friend. The man who had stayed by her side through thick and thin, had seen her at her lowest and her highest. They were truly going to spend the rest of their lives together.

The truth of that statement settled around her, flooding her body with warmth and love. The pressure in her gut rippled outward, stealing her breath as she cried out his name, her pleasure overwhelming her. James murmured encouragements into her ear as she rode the waves of ecstasy. He expertly worked her through it, prolonging her pleasure and moving with her all the way to the end.

Rose collapsed, boneless, into the mattress, her heart thundering in her ears as her body thrummed with lingering pleasure. James settled atop her, his solid, comforting weight pressing down on her.

“I love you,” he whispered, brushing gentle kisses across her face. “More than any person has ever loved another.”

“Impossible,” she mumbled, cracking open an eyelid. He was frowning. She winked. “’Cos I definitely love you more.”

He cracked a grin but rolled his eyes. “Pfff. No way. I definitely love you more.”

“Nope,” she sang.

“Yeah huh.”

“No way, the end,” Rose said in a rush, covering his lips in a hard kiss so he couldn’t refute her claim once more.

He beamed against her mouth, clearly not at all miffed that he lost this “argument”. He kissed her back just as passionately, his lips moving perfectly with hers. Rose linked her arms around his shoulders, hugging him lazily to her as they snogged.

When they broke apart, James shifted off of her to collapse onto his side next to her. He tucked his head onto her pillow, above her shoulder. She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose before she nestled her cheek at his forehead, content to lie in silence with him.

As the sweat cooled on her skin, goosebumps shivered across her body. In a _feat_ of dexterity, James reached down with his toes and managed to work the sheets high enough for him to grab them. He draped them over their limp, sated bodies then rested his hand on her belly, where it rose and fell gently with her breathing.

Rose covered his hand with hers, definitely _not_ for the sole purpose of admiring her new engagement ring. The dim yellow light from the bedside lamp glittered across the gems.

“I love my ring.”

“So do I,” he answered. “Can’t wait to shop for wedding bands. My finger is naked next to yours.” He brought her hand to his lips, planting a reverent kiss to the knuckle below her ring. “When d’you think you want to get married?”

It warmed her to the very core that James was eager to get married; she suspected that he would be as involved in the wedding planning as he could be. Suddenly, Rose couldn’t wait for their wedding day. She wanted to gather with their friends and family and proclaim to the world that she was marrying her best friend. She wanted to openly vow her commitment and devotion to him, and to promise him that she would be at his side through thick and thin, for better or for worse. 

She wanted it so badly she _ached_.

“Haven’t had much time to think about it,” she answered, buying herself some time. “You’ve kept me rather occupied since popping the question.”

James let out a humming giggle that she could feel vibrating in his chest.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never fantasized about our wedding before, have you?”

Rose shrugged. “Well, sure. But in all my fantasies, I’m mostly just concerned that it’s you I’m walking towards. Not the details.”

“Your Pinterest boards would suggest otherwise,” he drawled, pinching her waist.

“Pfff. Well all right then, when would _you_ like to get married?”

“If I was sure your mother wouldn’t murder me, I would apply for a marriage license right now and take you to the courthouse as soon as we got it,” he said, his tone only half-joking. “Buuuut a proper, public ceremony with our friends is appealing as well. I’ve always fancied an autumn-time wedding. All the reds and golds and oranges. Cool breeze. Pumpkin spice. Autumn decor. Candles and fairy lights and falling leaves and brilliant blue skies.

His tone was so wistful that Rose immediately decided that an October wedding was exactly what they needed.

“That sounds beautiful. Next year or the year after?”

“As much as I would love to marry you as soon as possible, next year is going to be hectic. And expensive, what with me moving to whichever school I decide to attend. I mean, not that we couldn’t do it with the funds we have, but it might be less stressful to put it off another year? Not that I want to put off our wedding, ‘cos as I mentioned, I _really_ want to marry you. But, practically, we’re already married. We live together, share the cost of living. Share a bank account. Tying the knot makes it _legally_ official. Plus with the Clinton administration’s stance on immigration, you can apply for an extension of your visa after graduation until we get married, then we can get you a spousal green card.”

Rose’s head was aching, trying to follow his words as they came out faster and faster the longer he spoke. When he paused to take a breath, she fisted her hand through his hair and angled his head up for a firm kiss.

“The year after next sounds perfect,” she said. “That gives us enough time to save money for the ceremony, reception, and honeymoon.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, making him giggle.

He nuzzled into her, letting out a contented sigh. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Right back at you,” she responded, massaging her fingers through his hair. “I can’t wait to marry you, too.”

“It’ll be here before we know it,” he said, though the wistful edge in his voice made it sound like he was convincing himself. James leaned up and pressed his lips to hers in a series of bone-meltingly gentle kisses. “Autumn 2020—It’s gonna be our best year yet.”

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she wrote, folks. For now 😉 This fic was actually not supposed to exist. I was writing the real sequel to Chemical Potential and found myself writing so many flashback scenes that I eventually said "eff it" and began writing a small transition story of the years between James and Rose's first kiss and when they got engaged. Nine months and nearly 150,000 words later, here we are 😂 So for those of you wondering... YES, there will be more in this series. The **actual** sequel I had planned 😂
> 
> However, I am not going to be starting the sequel (Chemical Equilibrium) until much much much later in the year, because... I've started a brand new AU! It's a Ten x Rose Single Parents AU that I'm hoping to start publishing in a couple months. So, if you would like to be notified when I being posting the new Single Parents story or Chemical Equilibrium, be sure to subscribe to me as a user (you can find this button in my profile, just click my username 😘)
> 
> Thank you all so much for being wonderful audiences for this story. I would love to hear from you, if you've been reading this story. Whether you're a regular reader and commenter, if you're a lurker who has read but not commented, or if you're binging this for the first time, drop a comment to let me know what you thought. Even if you're reading this years and years from now 💜
> 
> I know this note is getting long, but here's one final treat: the engagement ring James gives to Rose.
> 
>   
>    
> 


End file.
